A sure way to the heart
by McLance
Summary: Scott's soft side shows thru when he runs upon a little girl, who captures his attention, then his interest, and then his heart. Brought to the inner core of the Lancer family, proves to be just what a brown-eyed girl needed and desired.
1. Chapter 1

It was hot. Uncommonly so. Hotter than it should be for this time of year. Even if it was California. That was

Scott Lancer's thoughts as he waited beside the freight office. He pushed his hat up further onto his forehead.

"It's a hot one today, ain't it, Scott?" a voice from behind him said.

Scott turned to look into Cory McFay's weathered face. "That it is," he agreed.

"Rain tomorrow," Cory said. "That'll be some relief."

"What makes you think it's going to rain?" Scott asked, curiously.

"My leg," Cory said, giving his right leg a slap. "It always lets me know when we've got rain a'comin. Got it hurt in the war,

did ya know that?"

"I think I did hear that," Scott said, knowing full well that he'd heard the story twenty times or more, from Cory himself.

"Well, there's no better rain barometer that this leg of mine, I'll tell ya that," Cory affirmed, giving his leg another slap for good measure.

"I'll look forward to the rain then," Scott said mildly.

"Train's late today," Cory said, in continued conversation, pulling a battered pocket watch from his vest pocket, and giving it a squint-eyed

look.

They stood in companionable silence until the whistle of the train blew in the distance, announcing its imminent arrival.

When the train had come to a screeching halt, Scott waited until the smoke cleared, and the doors of the cars began to be

slid open. After the freight office employee hopped up into the train car, and began handing off boxes

to another man, Scott went to lean inside.

"Have anything for Lancer?" he asked the handler from the freight office.

"Not for certain," the man answered. "Large? Or small?"

"Large. About the size of that one," Scott said, pointing at a box in the middle of the train car.

The man obligingly went to peer at the label on the box. "Doesn't say Lancer on this one. Go ahead and take a look-see if you want to."

"Thanks," Scott said, and began to walk amongst the boxes, checking the ones that had been loaded onto a baggage cart.

"Any luck?" the man from inside the train car called.

"Doesn't look like it," Scott said.

"Maybe tomorrow," the man suggested.

As Scott was nodding in response, and turning, he was met with a blow to his middle, that was strong enough to make

him take a couple of unexpected steps backwards. He put out his hands to steady the force that had plowed into him, and

looked down into a big pair of brown eyes, which were overshadowed by the over-sized hat the kid wore.

"Sorry, mister," the kid said, in a soft voice, and then continued the run down the sidewalk beside the depot.

"Stop that kid!" came a roar, as a burly, heavyset man stepped up from the street onto the sidewalk. "He's got

my wallet!"

Huffing and puffing from the exertion, the man stopped to catch his breath. "Grab him!" he hollered.

As Scott watched, he saw that the kid was caught, good and proper, by a Good Samaritan who had stepped up to

help out. The fat man ambled over to the accused thief, and took over where the Good Samaritan had left off. He grabbed

the kid by the front of the shirt.

"Give me my wallet!"

"I don't have it!" the kid protested.

"You're a lying little weasel!" the man insisted, and began to shake the kid. Hard. In that shaking, the over-sized hat

fell off the kid's head, and to the ground, and a mass of dark auburn hair tumbled out, and half-way down her back.

There was a collective murmur among the few folks that were still watching the drama unfold.

"A girl!" the fat man exclaimed, sounding shocked, and released his hold a bit. A fact which the kid took immediate advantage of,

sprinting back into flight.

Scott caught a glimpse of another kid, this one a little taller, who managed to hop into one of the train's empty cars

without notice.

There was an 'all aboard!' call given, and the train began to move, slowly at first, then picking up speed.

The girl ran, trying to catch up with the train that her cohart was on, but every time she put out her hand, the train seemed

to move out of her reach.

Scott moved closer, finding himself drawn into the drama. Finally, the kid had to give it up, the train picked up speed, and

went on down the tracks. The girl stopped, and doubled over, obviously trying to catch her breath.

The fat man was able to catch up to the kid, and grabbed her. He got a tight grip on her arm,

leaned into her face, and said, "We'll see how you like sitting in a jail cell, you little thief!"

"I don't have your wallet!" the girl protested again.

When the man began to rough the kid up, even going so far as to cuff her ear, Scott decided that he'd seen

plenty. He moved quickly. "That's enough," he said, with authority, to the other man.

Still huffing and puffing, the man dismissed Scott without even a glance. "Stay out of it, friend," he warned, and began to

shake the girl again.

"I said, 'that's enough'," Scott said, and put a hand on the man's shoulder, who gaze swept to Scott's in surprise.

Scott met that gaze unflinchingly. He took advantage of that surprise, using those seconds to take the girl's arm in his

hand, and pull her over behind him a bit.

"She took my coin purse," the other man protested. "Got all my traveling money in it, too!"

"There's no need for manhandling her," Scott said. He turned towards the girl, whose arm he still had ahold of.

"Do you have this man's money? His wallet?" he asked her.

"No!" the girl said, her breathing still ragged from running.

"You're a liar!" the fat man accused.

"Prove it!" the kid yelled, and the man reached for her angrily. The kid didn't flinch from his grabbing. She retaliated, from

her vantage point beside Scott, and gave a swift, hard kick to the other man's knee.

Obscenities flowed from his mouth, and he grasped his knee as if permanently injured.

"Stop grabbing at her," Scott ordered the other man. And then he turned his look onto the girl, who he saw now was slight, and

looked as though she was about ten or eleven. "And you, stop that kicking."

The kid's eyes widened a little. "I don't have his money, though," she protested.

"Alright. Easy enough to prove that. Take a walk over to the sheriff's office, and this can be settled," Scott suggested.

The girl's eyes widened, and he saw the fear in her eyes at the mention of the sheriff's office.

"Fine. Let's go," the fat man said, and reached out to grab the girl's arm.

She jerked back, and when it looked as though another physical scuffle was going to break out between them, Scott said

again, "Stop."

The girl looked at Scott, and said, "I won't go with him!"

Scott considered that, giving her a thoughtful look. "Will you go with me?" he asked.

After a moment's hesitation, the little girl nodded. though she still looked wary.

So the threesome began the trek across the street, and down the sidewalk towards Val's office, with Scott walking in

the middle.

Outside the office, the fat man pushed ahead, and went in first, beginning at once to bend Val's ear about what

had occurred.

Scott heard something that sounded suspiciously like 'bloated jackal' muttered under the little girl's breath. He paused

just outside the door to look down at the kid. "It might be wiser for you to refrain from that sort of name-calling," he

advised mildly.

Again the kid's eyes widened a little. "I didn't steal from him, mister," she said again, and Scott caught the trembling of her

chin before she turned tough again.

"Alright," he said, quietly.

The little girl regarded him with undisguised surprise.

"You believe me?" she asked Scott, sounding incredulous.

"Until you prove me wrong, I don't see any reason not to believe you."

By now Val was at the door of the office. "What in tarnation is goin' on here, Scott?" he asked. "How'd you come to

be involved in this?"

"Just lucky like that, I guess," Scott said.

Once inside the office, Val told the little girl to sit down, and had to quiet the fat man several times from his blustering.

Scott found himself a place to sit, on the edge of Val's big desk.

"What makes you think the girl has your money?" Val asked.

"I seen her. She was in my seat, goin' thru my coat pocket, when I got up to stretch my legs. Just before the train stopped."

Val turned to the little girl. "Is that true?"

"No."

"I saw her!" the fat man protested.

"It wasn't me," the girl insisted.

"Dressed just like she is," the man said to Val, gesturing towards the girl.

"Doesn't mean it was me," she maintained, and then muttered, "Bastardo."

"Hey, now," Val told her.

The little girl let her gaze flicker away from Val's stern face, looking instead towards Scott.

Scott shook his head just the slightest bit, and the little girl sighed, and subsided.

"Well, it's your word against hers," Val was saying to the fat man, who began to bluster again.

"Simmer down," Val said, raising his voice a little.

When the man continued to pace and rant, Val hooked a thumb towards the door.

"Get out," he ordered.

"What about my money?" he demanded.

"We're working on it," Val said, his tone curt. "But since you can't keep your mouth shut, get out until we do."

Blustering the whole way, the man went out, slamming the door.

Val looked towards Scott, and then at the girl.

"Seems we have a quandary here," he said to the little girl.

She regarded him with a fearful expression. "What's that mean?" she asked Val.

"It means, that if we want this to be settled, you're going to have to prove that it wasn't you that took this man's

wallet from his coat pocket."

"You mean you want to search me?" she asked.

"Well, something like that," Val told her.

In response, the girl crossed her arms tightly across her chest, her expression mutinous.

Val stood up, stepping over to Scott. "Probably ought to get a woman in here," he said, in a low voice.

Understanding his meaning, Scott nodded briefly. "What about Carrie, over at the hotel?" he asked.

Val nodded. "See if she can slip over."

Scott pushed off of the desk, and headed towards the door. He paused when the kid

said, "Hey, mister?"

When he looked back, the girl was sitting up straight in the chair, no longer slouching. She had uncrossed her arms, and

looked worried.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Across the street for a minute," Scott said.

"Are you coming back?"

Scott caught the plaintive tone to her question, and by the look of Val's raised eyebrows, Scott figured that he had caught it as well.

"I'll be back," he said, and the little girl looked visibly relieved.

When Scott came back to the office, escorting Carrie Dotts, who ran the hotel, it was to find Val nose to nose with the

child.

"You're only hurting yourself here," Val was telling her.

At the sight of Carrie coming in, Val took her aside, along with Scott and they had a low conversation.

He instructed Carrie to have the girl empty her pockets, and to 'pat her down' to make sure there wasn't a coin purse

hidden.

To Scott he said, in irritation, "Kid won't tell me her name, or who her people are. I know she's not from around here."

"I'm pretty sure she got off the train at the depot," Scott said. He wondered if he should mention the other kid that

he'd seen, and after a moment's thought, he did so.

"That kid's long gone," Val said. "Let's get this done."

He told the girl to go with Carrie to the back room, and that he would be waiting right outside, and not to try any

nonsense.

"I don't want this travesty to be prolonged any longer than absolutely necessary," the little girl said, with all the regalness of

a princess addressing her court. And then she got up and walked towards the back room.

Scott, Val and Carrie all exchanged glances.

"Well, my goodness," Carrie said, looking amused, "she's something, isn't she?"

"Let's go," Val said, and ushered Carrie to the back.

Scott waited, leaning at the window, watching the townspeople as they passed by.

After just a few minutes, the trio reemerged. Carrie said her goodbyes and went back across the street.

Scott turned to Val, waiting. There was a part of him that really wanted to hear that the kid didn't have the man's wallet

or money.

Val shook his head at Scott in answer.

The little girl had a satisfied half-smile on her face. "You all do this on a regular basis?" she asked. "Take visitors to your town

over to the sheriff, and have them frisked and treated like a criminal? All because some fat, old toad gets his long johns

in a bunch?"

A glance at Val showed his face turning red in anger.

"Now you listen, little missy," he said, turning on the child. "Just because you don't have the man's money, doesn't mean you're

off the hook. Why don't you explain why you were running away from him, if you had no reason to do so?"

The child gestured out the window to where the fat man could be seen, puffing on a cigar, and pacing up and down the sidewalk.

"If something like that was chasing YOU, wouldn't you run too?" she asked.

Val snorted and went to the door, pulling it open. "Kid's clear," he told the fat man. "She doesn't have your money."

Clearly disbelieving, the man tried to step around Val to come back inside. "That doesn't prove a thing," he denied. "She could

have hid it somewhere! Maybe by the depot."

"You're full of something," the little girl called, "and it's not daisies!"

"You little brat-" the obese man said, and tried to make a grab for her.

"That's enough," Val snapped, and gave the man a hefty push outside, following him out, where he had to continue to try to reason

with him.

Scott turned to look down at the girl, and she looked back at him.

"I told you I didn't have it, didn't I?" she said, and gave him a grin that showed dimples.

"That's what you told me," Scott said mildly.

When he continued to regard her with a serious and thoughtful expression, the little girl's smile faded.

"How come you're looking at me like that?" she asked.

Scott took his time in answering, pulling out a chair and sitting down, and resting one foot on the opposite knee.

"I was just thinking," he said, in a casual way, "that you're sassy for somebody that's in the fix that you are."

"What fix?" she asked, her forehead wrinkling. "I proved I don't have his money!"

"Yeah. You did that, alright," Scott said, in apparent easy agreement.

"So why would I be in a fix?" she asked.

"Well, it doesn't seem to me that our friend out there is going to be satisfied without some answers," Scott said.

The little girl went over near the window, looking at the man standing with Val.

She turned back towards Scott. "I don't have any answers for him."

"Maybe your traveling partner does though, right?" Scott asked.

Something crossed over the child's face before she could mask it. "Huh?" she asked.

"Your friend. The one that was running behind you just after you got caught. The one that managed to

get on the train."

The child's eyes widened. She was silent, looking at Scott.

"Maybe that's the one that took his wallet?" Scott suggested, casually. "Since you were dressed so similar, it'd be an

easy mistake for him to have made, getting the two of you confused. Suppose that's what happened?"

The little girl's expression became mutinous again. She flung herself in a chair.

A moment later, the door opened, and shut with a healthy slam.

"Alright," Val said. "Time to talk names here, little missy."

L4ever


	2. Just Charlotte

Scott watched as the little girl took measure of her situation, studying Val out of those huge brown eyes, trying to determine just how

provoked he really was.

Val sat down near Scott, and said brusquely, "What's your name?"

"I didn't swipe that man's money."

"We've determined that," Val said, sounding vastly irritated. "I'm asking your name."

"Can't I go? I didn't commit any crime," she insisted.

"To go where?" Val asked her. "You got off the train here today, with no family or adults present with you. Where is it you plan

to go?"

The little girl looked Val over, and then looked at Scott.

Scott kept his expression neutral, serious.

"My name is Charlie," she said, reluctantly.

At both Val and Scott's puzzled looks, she sighed. "It's short for Charlotte," she explained.

"Charlotte what?" Val persisted.

"Just Charlotte."

Val sat back in the straight-backed chair, and gave a sigh.

"Okay, Just Charlotte," he said mockingly. "Where are you from?"

When he got no answer, Val looked at Scott, and then shrugged lightly, standing up.

"Well, then, I've guess I've got no choice," he said, in a slow drawl. "Right, Scott?"

"I guess you don't," Scott said, in apparent agreement.

"No choice but what?" the girl asked, looking wary.

"To keep you here," Val said, "until you're ready to tell us your name, and where you're from, so we can contact

your parents."

Unable to hide how horrified she was, the girl said, "You mean lock me up? Back there?" as she pointed towards the

jail cells.

"Well, I don't want to, you understand," Val said, going over to his desk, and rustling thru some papers, in apparent nonchalance. "But

we can't just let you wander out of here, without somebody to look after you. And since you won't tell us any information about yourself,

well, that just seems to be the only choice."

Just when it seemed as though Val's strategy was successful, and the little girl was ready to be forthright with them, she stood up,

and went over to the front of the one of the cells.

Then, to the obvious shock of Val, and Scott, too, she went inside, pulled the iron door closed, and sat down on the not-so-clean cot, crossing

her arms, and giving them both a mutinous stare.

"Now listen," Val said, beginning to bluster.

Scott waved a cautionary hand at him, and motioned him outside, pulling the door shut behind them.

Val looked as though he were ready to explode, and Scott said lightly, "Good try."

"I don't have time for this nonsense. I haven't even had any lunch yet, and it's near onto two o'clock. She'll have to tell me what I need to know."

"How are you going to accomplish that?" Scott asked him.

"I'll give her a good tanning and make her tell me," Val said.

"Hmm," Scott said, in answer, and Val gave him an irritated look.

"I suppose you have a better idea," he snapped.

"I don't know about better, but I've got an idea, yeah."

"Well, if it involves me getting to go to the Longhorn for some lunch, then I'm listening," Val said.

L*

After outlining his plan of action, Scott sent Val on his way across the street to the restaurant. When he stepped back inside

the jail, and closed the door, the little girl stood up from her seated place on the cot. Scott didn't say anything at first. He found a piece of wood

in the wood box, a small piece, and sat down, with his feet on the desk, and pulled a pocketknife out of his pocket.

And then he began to whittle at the wood, letting the shavings fall to the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that she had come over to the door of the jail cell, putting her hands on the bars, and looking at

him.

"Where's the sheriff?" she asked.

"He went to have his lunch."

"So you're my jailer, huh?" she asked then, sassy-like. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

Scott didn't much care for the tone of her voice, but he kept his temper. It wasn't the time yet.

"I'm not your jailer," he said calmly, still whittling. "I'm just sitting here until Val gets done at lunch."

"And then what?" she asked.

"And then I'll be on my way. Like you suggested, I do have some better things I need to be doing."

The little girl seemed to take that in, and then she said, sounding not-so-tough, "What kind of things?"

"Like stringing some new fence along a creek line. And then sitting down to supper with my family."

"You a rancher?" she asked.

"That's right."

There was a moment or two of silence, and then she asked, "You have a wife? And kids?"

"No."

"Who's in your family?" she asked then, sounding curious.

"My father. And my brother. And a few others who're like family."

"Oh," she said, and the subsided into quiet.

Scott bided his time, and when she kept standing there, at the door of the cell, watching him, he put the knife back into his

pocket, and stood up. He walked over to the window, lifting the curtain to look out, as if interested in the goings-on out in the street. Then

he went over to lean against the wall opposite the cell.

He didn't introduce conversation, though. He just stood. And waited.

"I guess you probably think I'm a bad kid. don't you?" she asked.

"I don't know you well enough to say," Scott answered.

"Well, I'm not!" she said, with spirit. "I've just had some bad luck lately, that's all."

"Yeah?" Scott asked, keeping his tone casual.

"Yeah." She sighed a little. From where he stood, Scott could hear her stomach rumbling with hunger.

He ignored that for the moment, though, and said, thoughtfully, "Val's a good man. He's just trying to help you, is all."

"Putting me in here?" she asked, sarcastically, and waving her hand around the dirty cell. "This is helping me?"

"Now just a minute, there," Scott said. "You put yourself in that cell. He just asked you some questions that you didn't want to

answer. If you're going to tell a story, make sure you tell it right."

The little girl's eyes took him in, and Scott could tell she was discomforted by the authority in his voice.

The door opened, and Val came in.

"Pork chops and fried potatoes for the special today, Scott," Val informed him. "You'd better get over there

before it's all gone."

"Sounds good," Scott said, and didn't miss the look of longing on the face of the child. No doubt about it. This was one

hungry kid.

Scott pushed himself off the wall, and turned his attention towards Val. "Well, I best be getting along. Johnny's not going

to be happy about stretching all that fence wire by himself."

"Right," Val said. "Tell him to come in town and have a beer with me sometime."

"I'll tell him," Scott promised. He flicked a glance toward the little girl. "I hope things work out for you," he told her.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again just as promptly.

Scott headed to the door of the jail, nodding just slightly at Val to let him know that the plan was still in place.

L*

After indulging in a cold beer, and a game of cards at the saloon, Scott went back over to the jail. When he went inside, Val

looked up from his paperwork at the desk, and then stood up, taking Scott to a far corner of the room for privacy.

"Been sitting in there cryin'," he said, in a low tone.

"Hmm," Scott said thoughtfully. "Well, let's see if she's ready."

He went over quietly to stand in front of the jail cell. The little girl was sitting cross-legged on the cot, her back towards

Scott. He could hear the sniffling as she tried to control her tears.

He didn't say anything right off, and the little girl turned to look back at him. For a moment her face brightened at the sight of him.

"I thought you left," she said, and then masked her emotions again.

"I thought I'd come back once more. See if you're ready to parley."

She swiped at her wet cheeks, twisting to look at him. "What's that mean?"

"It means talk. Discuss things. Answer questions."

"Oh," she said, and Scott was struck again by how slightly built she was.

She stood up, and slowly came over to the cell door, which Scott took as an encouraging sign. He decided to up the ante.

"Let's say that you were willing to do that. Answer questions, and all. Well, then, I figure that we could

go over to the restaurant and get something to eat," he told her.

"You mean you and me?" she asked, hopefully.

"That's what I mean." He paused, and then said, "Or, if you're not ready to talk, then you can wait for the supper Val brings you, and sleep here

tonight."

"Will I have to sleep here, even if I answer the questions?" she asked then, sounding worried.

"Well, that depends. It might be that you could come home with me for the night, to my family's home."

"Do you mean it?" she asked, looking shocked.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't," Scott said.

A range of vast emotions crossed over her face. Scott was quiet. Waiting. Letting her pride wage battle with her hunger, and her distaste at being in

the cell.

"Okay," she said then, quietly.

"Okay," Scott echoed, and turned to call to Val. "Val, you want to open up the cell?"

L*

Once seated, Val began the questions.

"How about your name?" he asked her. "Your entire name."

"It's Charlie. Charlotte Bays."

"Where's your folks?"

"I don't have any folks."

Val looked at her skeptically. "You have to have some people."

"I don't have anybody. I've been living in the orphanage."

Scott broke into the conversation. "What about the other kid? The one that hopped the train."

"Just a girl I met there," she said vaguely.

"So you two ran off from the orphanage, then?" Val asked, sitting back in his chair a little. "How long ago?"

"Maybe a couple of weeks."

"Did your friend take the wallet?" Val asked.

"I don't know," she said, and then at Val's stern look, she amended, "Well, probably."

When both Val and Scott were quiet, she said, "We wouldn't have gotten off the train here, but that man started hollering, and so we

jumped off and started running."

"What's her name?" Val asked.

Charlotte hesitated. "Why do I have to tell you that?"

"Because I'm asking you," Val said, his patience worn.

"Lila," Charlotte said reluctantly. "I don't know her last name."

"Okay," Val said, and stood up.

"What now?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I'll send a wire to the orphanage. Let them know you're here, so they can send somebody to pick you up," Val said.

"Oh," she said, and Scott thought that he could practically see the wheels of thought turning in her mind.

"Scott's agreed that you can stay at Lancer until I hear back something. And now, Scott, I'm going to leave you to

it," Val said, with obvious relief, and a gesture towards the little girl.

Once they were seated at a table across the street at the restaurant, Scott asked her what she wanted to eat.

To his surprise, she looked suddenly shy. "Whatever you think," she said. "I don't want to ask for anything that costs too much."

"Well, but I don't know what you like or don't like to eat," he said.

"I like just about everything," she told him, as the waitress came to take their order.

"We'll take two roast beef dinners, with mashed potatoes, and green beans," Scott said, and then looked at Charlotte. "Sound alright?"

The child nodded happily.

"And a glass of milk, and coffee," Scott added.

When the waitress had bustled away, Scott settled in his chair, looking across the table at the little girl. He wondered just how thin she

really was, under the too-large pants and shirt that she wore.

He himself was being regarded with just as much scrutiny by her, Scott saw.

"I don't know your name," she said.

"It's Scott. Scott Lancer."

"So when the sheriff said Lancer, he meant the name of your ranch?" she asked.

"That's right."

"And your brother's name is Johnny?" she asked, and Scott thought that she must have really been paying attention to the conversation

between he and Val in order to remember that.

He nodded.

"What's your father like?" she asked.

"Oh, Murdoch," Scott said. "Well, he's steady, and when he says something, he sticks by it. He loves his land, and his home."

"And he loves you? And your brother?" she asked, sounding wistful.

Scott didn't miss that tone of longing in her voice.

"He does," he agreed, simply.

"That must be nice," she said, and then sighed a little. Scott was tempted to ask questions, but he kept himself in check. It was too soon.

After that, Charlotte asked questions about the ranch. How big it was. Did they have cattle? And lots of horses?

"I like horses," she said, with a breathy sigh. "It's almost like they can talk to a person. I mean, it seems that way."

"My brother feels that way about horses, too," Scott told her.

The waitress brought their plates of food to the table then, and after that there wasn't any talking for a while. Charlotte tucked

into the meal, eating heartily and cleaning her plate. Observing without notice, Scott saw that she had table manners, and used them.

She didn't, he pondered, act as though she'd been residing in an orphanage. There was no quick stuffing of food, even though he knew

that she'd been extremely hungry.

As she finished, she pushed her plate away, and then finished her glass of milk.

"That was good," she said.

"Did you get enough?" Scott asked. "Or would you like dessert?"

"Can I?" she asked, looking hopeful.

"They have good pie here," Scott said, motioning to the waitress.

After a couple of minutes of thought, Charlotte decided on blackberry pie, and drank another glass of milk.

As she ate the pie, she spoke up quietly, "How come you're doing this for me? Helping me like you are? And letting me

stay at your home?"

Scott was quiet for a moment, contemplative. She seemed to be genuine in her desire to understand.

"Well," he said in honesty, "I don't really know. You just seemed as though you needed somebody."

For a moment, Scott thought he saw the glimmer of tears in those brown eyes.

"But you didn't have to help me," she persisted.

"No. I didn't," he said simply.

She studied him, still looking a bit emotional. "What if you find out something about me? Something that's not so good?"

Realizing what she was getting at, Scott decided to make her spell it out.

"What if I do?" he asked.

"Well, maybe you won't want to have me at your house then," she said, avoiding his eye.

"I guess that's a possibility," he acknowledged. "It seems as though there's an easy enough answer to that, though."

"What?" she asked, looking up at him again, all eyes.

"You could just tell me anything that you think I might need to know. That way I'd hear it from you."

At her frightened look, Scott decided to back off for the time being. "I'll tell you what," he said, giving her a half-smile. "Let's just go on as we are for

a bit. Talking might get easier for you, once you realize that I'm really a pretty nice guy."

"I already know that," the child said. "I knew it as soon as you stepped in to help me at the train depot."

They regarded each other silently for a moment or two, and then Scott said, "Well, let's head to Lancer."

*L*


	3. Introductions

The ride back to the ranch, with Charlotte behind him on Charlie, her arms wrapped around his waist, began with her

chattering a mile a minute. Not, Scott noticed, with any information about herself. Just more questions about the ranch, or Murdoch and Johnny, Teresa or Jelly.

"What's Teresa like?" she asked, leaning around a bit so that Scott could hear her over the wind that had picked up.

"She's real nice. Smart. She likes to play the piano."

After a few minutes of silence, Charlotte spoke up again, sounding less chatty, and more nervous.

"What if your family doesn't want me to stay?"

"They'll welcome you."

After that she was quiet, until they rode under the iron Lancer that proclaimed that they had arrived.

In front of the house, Scott offered her an arm and lowered her to the ground first, and then dismounted himself.

"It's big," Charlotte said.

"That it is," Scott agreed.

"There must be a hundred rooms."

Scott smiled a little. "Not quite that many."

He didn't miss the way that she was twisting her hands together.

"No need to be nervous," he said.

"I'm not," she denied stoutly.

Scott raised an eyebrow, and Charlotte shrugged. "Well, maybe a little."

"'Bout time you got yourself home," Jelly proclaimed, coming around the side of the house. "Johnny's fit to be tied."

"Jelly, this is Charlotte. Charlie," he corrected himself. "Charlie, this is Jelly."

"Howdy," Jelly said.

"Hello," Charlotte said.

"Johnny still out on the fence line?" Scott asked him.

"Nope. Inside now, havin' a drink with the boss."

"Alright." He held out the reins to Jelly. "Do you mind?"

"That's what I'm kept around here for," Jelly said, in a grumble, and took the reins, walking towards the barn.

"Let's go in," Scott said, seeing that she was still reluctant. He put a hand on the center of her back.

They could hear voices as soon as they stepped inside. Scott knew the kid was nervous, feeling shy and uncertain, but he

was still surprised when he felt her take his hand.

Recognizing her need for reassurance, he gave her hand a squeeze. "Come on," he prompted, and they went into

the library, where Teresa and Johnny were sitting on the sofa, and Murdoch was half-leaning on his desk.

Johnny got to his feet. "Well," he said, "Hello there, brother."

"You decided to come home, hmm?" Murdoch asked, before he saw the child standing behind Scott just a bit.

Murdoch set his drink glass on the desk, and came forward. "Well, who's this?" he asked, in a friendly way.

"Murdoch, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is my father," Scott said, giving the little girl a gentle tug, and sending Murdoch a wordless prompt for

understanding.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charlie," Murdoch said, kindly, and he put out a hand.

Charlie took his hand and shook it. "Hello, Mr. Lancer," she said.

"And this is my brother. Johnny," Scott said then.

Johnny leaned down slightly so that he was on eye-level with her. "Hullo, Charlie," he said, and gave her a grin.

"Hi."

As he stood up, Johnny said, "You always find the prettiest girls when you go to town, brother," and winked at Charlie.

By now, Teresa was standing near, too, next to Johnny.

"My name's Teresa," she said to the child, with a smile.

"Hello."

Still conscious of the little girl's hand in his, Scott said, "Charlie's going to stay here with us for a few days, if that's alright

with everybody."

"Absolutely," Murdoch said, "We're glad to have you with us, young lady," he said, warmly.

"Thank you," Charlie said, softly.

"I'll take you up and show you your room," Scott told her, and then turned to look at his father. "And then I'll come back down

and talk to you, Murdoch."

"Alright, son," Murdoch said, aware that Scott meant to explain things to him.

Scott headed up the stairs, Charlie alongside of him. At the room across the hall from his own bedroom, Scott opened the door,

and went in. "This is our guest room," he said. "So since you're our guest, I think it will work, don't you?"

Charlie looked around the room, at the muted browns and warmth of the room.

"It's a nice room," she said.

Scott surveyed her for a moment. "I'm going to see if Teresa will get a bath ready for you."

"I can take my own bath," Charlie objected.

"I didn't say that you couldn't, did I?" Scott said mildly. "I said get it ready for you."

"Oh," Charlie said, looking embarrassed.

"A hot bath would be good, don't you think?" he asked.

The little girl nodded.

"Alright. And then we'll see what we can find for you to wear," Scott said.

Charlie looked down at her clothes dubiously. "I guess these are pretty dirty," she admitted.

"Dirty," Scott agreed. "And too big. And not for a little girl."

For a moment, Charlie looked at him in near horror. "You mean I can't wear pants while I stay here?"

"I didn't say that. Let's just get you bathed, and in some clean clothes for right now, alright?"

"Okay," Charlie said.

"Well, get out of those clothes, and I'll send Teresa up," Scott told her. "And then I'll see you downstairs when you're done."

"Alright, Scott," she said, sounding unsure.

Scott paused beside her, and lifted her chin with his hand so that she was looking at him.

"They're all good people," he said. "Every one of them. They're kind, and understanding. You'll be treated well."

Charlie nodded, and Scott went out, and downstairs, going first to find Teresa, and asking her to help Charlie. Then, he returned

to the library, and approached the bottle of bourbon that sat on the desk.

He poured a glass of the amber liquid, and tossed it back, before turning to see his father and brother watching him with varied expressions.

Murdoch looked pensive. Concerned. Johnny, on the other hand, looked amused.

Murdoch swirled the drink in his glass. "What goes on, son?" he asked.

Scott gave a brief explanation of how the whole thing with the child had come about.

"It just seemed like the right thing to do, Murdoch," he said.

"How old is she?" Murdoch asked.

"She says she's twelve."

"Small for twelve," Murdoch observed. "Val's going to send a telegram to the orphanage, you say?"

"That's right."

Scott went to pour himself another drink, and turned to look into the laughing eyes of his brother.

"You have something to say, I take it?" he asked.

"Not a thing," Johnny denied. "What's with the 'Charlie' for a name?"

"Charlotte," Scott said, taking a long drink. "It's short for Charlotte."

Murdoch put a hand on Scott's shoulder. "We'll make her welcome."

Scott nodded. "I knew you would."

*L*

When Charlie came back downstairs, accompanied by Teresa, she was scrubbed clean, and her hair was shiny, and tied back with a

green ribbon. She was dressed in a pair of overalls that Teresa had hunted down from one of the closets.

"Were those yours?" Johnny asked Teresa, giving her a teasing nudge.

"I think they were," Teresa said, and gave him a shove back. "What about it?"

"Nothing. Nothing," Johnny said, holding up a hand. "I'm sure you looked just as pretty in them as Charlie does."

"We're about to have our dinner," Murdoch told the little girl. "Do you like salmon, or have you ever had it?"

"I like it."

"I don't know how much Charlie and I will eat," Scott cautioned. "We both just had a big meal a couple of hours ago."

A short time later, he was struck nearly in awe, by the fact that Charlie managed to eat an entire serving of salmon,

with carrots, and two of Maria's large homemade rolls.

"That was really good," she said, as everybody was getting up, and pushing in their chairs..

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Murdoch said.

Without being asked, Charlie helped Teresa clear the table, and take the dishes to the kitchen.

Murdoch raised an eyebrow in approval.

After they headed back to the library for the evening's relaxation, Teresa and Charlie came into the room.

"Charlie has made an ally for life," Teresa said. "She thanked Maria for the food, and told her how good it was."

"I'm sure Maria appreciated hearing that," Murdoch said, smiling at the little girl.

Charlie smiled back, a little shyly, and when everybody had found a place to sit, she positioned herself next to Scott.

During the conversation, she was mostly quiet, until Scott noticed that she was sitting very still, her head resting against his arm.

"Charlie," he said, "time for bed."

The little girl sat up, exhaustion evident on her face.

"Did you find something for her to sleep in?" Scott asked Teresa, and at her nod, he looked at the child.

"Go on up and get into your nightclothes," he said.

As she stood up, there was a chorus of goodnights to her, and 'see you at breakfast'.

"Goodnight," she said, looking at all of them. She paused a little, looking at Scott hesitantly.

Without her speaking a word, he knew what she wanted. "I'll come up in a few minutes to say goodnight," he told her, and

she nodded, going up the stairs.

A few minutes later, Scott went upstairs, pausing at the bedroom door to knock.

"Come in," Charlie called.

He opened the door to see Charlie sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing a too-large white nightgown that most likely belonged to

Teresa.

"Ready for bed?" he asked.

When she nodded, he held up the book in his hand. "I thought I'd read for a few minutes. If you want me to."

At her eager nod, he went to sit beside her on the bed, opening the worn, brown volume.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Ivanhoe. It belonged to my grandfather."

"I've never heard of it," Charlie said, sounding unsure.

"Well, let's try it. If you don't like it, then we won't keep on with it."

As he began to read, Scott sensed a change in the little girl. She leaned nearly on his arm, seemingly relaxed, and was listening carefully, obviously enthralled

in the story.

After he'd read five or six pages, he paused, marking the page with a bookmark.

"Well?" he asked her. "What do you think?"

"I like it very much."

"So, should we continue with this one tomorrow night, or find another book?" Scott asked.

Large, shining brown eyes turned to look up at him. "You mean you'll read like that with me, every night?" she asked, sounding

incredulous.

"If you'd like me to."

"Yes. I would," she said.

"So we continue with Ivanhoe?" Scott asked.

"Yes!" she said with enthusiasm.

Scott laid the book on the night table, and lifted the quilts. "Hop down under there," he told her, and she scrambled to get under

the blankets.

He tucked them up around her, and then paused. "Now, my room is the one right across the hall, alright? If you get frightened, or you

need something."

She nodded.

"Alright. Goodnight," Scott said.

"Goodnight."

He turned down the lamp, and was at the door when she said, "Scott?" softly. Hesitantly.

He turned back to look towards the bed. "What?"

"How long does it take for a telegram to get somewhere?"

"Not long. The same day. Why?"

"I just wondered," Charlie said, and Scott heard all the words that she left unspoken. He decided to wait it out.

"Goodnight, Charlie," he said again.

*L*

The next morning, Scott was sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling on his boots, when there was a light tap on his

door.

"Come in," he said, and Charlie opened the door, standing there for a moment. She was wearing the overalls from the

evening before, and her hair was loose.

"Good morning, Scott," she greeted him, looking a little hesitant.

"Good morning," Scott answered, as he began tugging on his second boot. "How did you sleep?"

"Good. That bed is really comfortable."

"Well, I'm glad you slept well," Scott said. As the child stood there, in the doorway, he said, "You can come in if you like."

Charlie came into the room, taking everything in as she looked around. She came to stand beside the bed.

"Are you going to be doing work outside today?" she asked him.

"Uh huh."

"Can I be with you? I'll help with whatever you're doing."

Scott finished with his second boot, and looked at her. "I thought you might want to stay here. I'm sure there's some

things that Teresa might like you to help her with. We've got a long ride up to where we need to check fence."

The child looked conflicted, and subsided into silence.

Scott looked at her perceptively. "What, Charlie?" he asked her.

"I'd just like to go with you," she said. "I promise I'll help Teresa later."

"It's a long ride to-" Scott began, repeating his previous warning.

"I'm a good rider. I like to ride," she said, her cheeks high with color.

Scott hesitated, trying to choose his words.

"It's going to be real hot out there," he said next.

"I'll wear my hat."

Scott regarded her seriously, contemplating.

"I won't complain about being hot or tired, or anything. Not even once, I won't," Charlie promised. And then, her brown

eyes pleading, "Please, Scott?"

"Alright," Scott said, giving permission, and Charlie's face lit up with a smile that showed those dimples.

"Go and find your hat. You might have to ask Teresa what she did with it. And put your hair up in a braid," he ordered.

"Yes. Okay," she said, with excitement.

"And then hustle down to breakfast. We're not going to wait on you if you're not ready to go."

Obviously knowing his threat to be an idle one, Charlie gave him a mock salute. "Yes, sir!" she said, still smiling, and ran

from the room.

Scott sat there for a full minute, feeling his heart constrict with emotion.

*L*


	4. Pequeno

Scott received an earful at breakfast from Maria, who spoke rapidly in Spanish, not so much to him, as at him. Gesturing towards

Charlie, who was busy drizzling syrup onto her flapjacks, Maria burst into furious speech.

"Chica tiene golpe de calor," she muttered. "Senor Scott, locos dela cabeza."

Charlie, who hadn't yet heard one of Maria's effusive outpourings, looked up from her flapjacks, in curiousity, watching the exchange

between Scott and Maria.

"Va a estar bien," Scott said, trying a smile on Maria.

"Locos dela cabeza," Maria said, again, stomping outside towards the garden.

"Somebody's in the doghouse," Johnny said, in apparent enjoyment of Scott's predicament.

Scott ignored that, and went on eating his breakfast.

When there was but one slice of bacon left on the platter in the center of the table, Johnny made a move to take it, his fork in hand,

when he caught sight of Charlie's face.

"You want it?" he asked her.

When she shook her head, looking shyly at him, he grinned and put the bacon on her plate.

"You eat it, pequeno. You'll need all your strength if you're gonna be working with Scott today."

Charlie smiled at him, and ate the bacon.

"What's pequeno?" she asked Johnny, as they were all getting to their feet, and pushing in their chairs.

"Little one," Johnny said.

Charlie looked around, and saw that Scott was talking to Murdoch, out of earshot.

"Do you know what Maria was saying to Scott at breakfast?" she asked curiously.

"She was tellin' Scott that he was crazy in the head for lettin' you go out today, that probably you'll get heatstroke."

"Oh." Charlie thought for a moment. "I don't want anybody to be mad at Scott because of me. Maybe I should stay here."

Johnny gave her a quick, discerning glance, his blue eyes lit with approval. "You really care for Scott," he said. "Don't ya?"

Charlie met his gaze, before looking away. "He's real nice," she said, softly, picking at a hangnail on her thumb. "He's kind."

Johnny ran a hand over her hair. "Come on," he said. "Let's go get saddled up."

"What about Maria, though?" Charlie said, looking worried.

"She'll be over it by tonight. Come on."

L

True to her word, Charlie didn't utter a word of complaint. Not about the unrelenting heat. Not about being thirsty or hungry or tired.

She rode fence line with both Scott and Johnny alternately. Scott showed her what to look out for, on the fence row, and cautioned her

to watch for snakes.

When they spotted a place in the wire that needed mending, they stopped, and they both showed Charlie what tools did what, and

she obligingly held the tools, and carted them back and forth to the saddle bags.

While they sat on the ground under one of the few trees, taking a break, and eating the food that Maria had packed for them,

Johnny laid back, his hat over his face.

"You ride well," Scott commented, as he bit into one of Maria's oatmeal raisin cookies.

Charlie reached for one of the cookies, her face bright. "I love to ride."

"When did you learn?" he asked.

"I was little. I think five years old, or so."

Scott could tell that she had answered him without thinking it out first.

"It's unusual for an orphanage to have horses for the kids to ride," he said.

Charlie looked panic-stricken. She put the cookie down, brushing at her face. She looked so panicked that Scott

felt a nudge of pity for her.

"I didn't learn it there," she said, avoiding his eye.

"Oh?"

"No. There was a-I learned it somewhere else," she finished.

"I see," Scott said, and he could tell that she was waiting for him to jump on her, demanding more information. Instead, he reached

for another cookie, and said no more.

After that they sat in the silence, finishing their lunch, until Johnny began to stir, sitting up, and resettling his hat on his dark head.

"Let's get this done," he said. "I've got plans tonight in Morro Coyo."

"Going looking for trouble?" Scott asked him, with a raised eyebrow.

"No tienes que venir conmigo," Johnny answered, with a grin.

"Not tonight," Scott refused.

"You're turnin' into an old man," Johnny accused, giving Scott a poke in the stomach. "Right in front of my very eyes."

Scott shrugged and got to his feet, slapping his hat against his leg, before putting it back on.

He held out a hand to Charlie, offering to pull her to her feet. The child took his hand, and replaced her own hat.

They were finished within an hour after that, and headed back to the ranch house. As they were unsaddling the horses, Scott felt

Charlie's eyes on him.

He turned, and gave her a half-smile. "You alright? You didn't get too hot out there?"

"I'm fine," she said.

"Make sure you drink some more water when you go inside," Scott said.

"Okay."

Scott carried his saddle to the rack where it set, in the barn, and Charlie tried to pull her own saddle off, struggling

a little under the weight.

"I'll get it, pequeno," Johnny told her, and lifted the saddle with ease.

"Thanks, Johnny," Charlie said, and went into the barn after him. She waited, standing next to both of them while they

talked for a few minutes, and then, when Johnny had gone towards the house, Charlie said, "Are you going out with Johnny when

he goes to town?"

"No. Not tonight, I don't think."

He could tell that the little girl was pleased with his answer.

"Will we read some more tonight?" she asked.

"I told you that we would, didn't I?"

"Yes. But I-" she let her voice taper off.

"What, Charlie?" Scott asked, giving her a direct look.

"I just thought maybe you might forget, or change your mind, or something."

For a moment, Scott thought over how to respond.

"I can be forgetful sometimes," Scott allowed. "But not usually about important things. And as far as changing my mind about it,

why do you think I'd do that?"

"I don't know," she said, sounding vague.

"I try hard to keep my promises," Scott said.

"Okay," Charlie said quietly.

"I think we have time before supper to go to town, and get you some new clothes," he said.

Instead of looking pleased, Charlie looked hesitant, nearly panicked again.

"The same town as yesterday?" she asked.

"Green River. Yes."

"I don't need anything-these are fine," she said in a burst, gesturing down at Teresa's old overalls.

"They may be fine, for a couple of days. But you can't go on having just them to wear."

"Yes, I can," she insisted. "Besides, I have to help Teresa. Remember? You said that I should help her when we

got back."

Scott bent down so that he was on eye-level with her.

"Is there a reason why you don't want to go to town?" he asked, pointedly.

Charlie looked at him, obviously disconcerted by his directness. She bit at her lower lip.

"I just don't need anything," she said, again, but much quieter.

"You need some clothes for everyday, and you need a pair of boots. Those you're wearing are done for. Now, I'm not

entirely sure why you're behaving like this. But, we're going. Alright?"

His voice had been stern, and he saw that she'd taken notice of that. Her eyes were wide, and though she still looked

worried, she nodded at him, subdued.

*L*

Later, riding to town, Charlie was seated between Scott and Teresa on the wagon seat. Charlie was quiet, answering only when

spoken to. Teresa talked for a bit about what clothes that she thought Charlie needed.

"Everyday things, a couple of dresses, new shoes, underthings," she listed, counting off on her fingers.

When she was met with a disapproving look from Charlie, Teresa said, "What?"

"I don't like dresses."

Teresa looked nonplussed. "You need them."

"Dresses are for parties, and stuff like that. I just need a pair of jeans."

"You might want to go to a party, you never know," Teresa told the little girl, still cheerful.

Charlie set her mouth in a stubborn line, and Teresa looked to Scott to settle the dispute.

"Scott?" she appealed. "If you want me to help her, then I have to know what you want her to have. I thought you said dresses."

With both of them looking at him, Scott said slowly, "I think at least one dress," he said.

Teresa nodded in response, while Scott saw that Charlie was not pleased.

"Doesn't mean that I'll wear it," she muttered.

She said it low, quiet, but she'd still said it.

"Charlie," he said. That was all he said, but it was enough. He saw that she got his warning from the one word.

She subsided into silence again.

In town, Scott pulled up in front of the mercantile. Teresa took the opportunity to climb down, and looked back expectantly, waiting

for Charlie. As the little girl would have clambored out after Teresa, Scott halted her with a hand on her arm.

"Head on in," Scott told Teresa. "Charlie'll be along in a minute."

"Alright," Teresa said, and went into the store.

Scott moved his hand from her arm, and then set the wagon brake.

"Teresa's being kind, helping pick out some clothes for you," he said, turning to look at her. "And she's doing it as a favor to me, too. So

don't treat her ugly. Whatever you're upset about, I don't think it has to do with a dress, anyway."

He gave Charlie a chance to reply, to confide in him. She didn't do either of those things. She just looked at him out of those

big, brown eyes.

"Alright," Scott said, with a sigh. "Go on in and find Teresa."

Charlie moved as if to go, and then paused. "Are you going to come back in a little while?" she asked.

"I've got a couple of things to do, and then I'll come check and see how you're getting along."

"Are you going to talk to the sheriff?" she asked then.

"I thought I would," Scott said, and didn't miss the look that crossed over her face.

"Do you think he's heard something back already from the orphanage?" she asked.

"I doubt that he has," Scott said simply.

"Oh."

A couple of moments passed, and when she said no more, Scott prompted, "Go on now."

Charlie gave him a last look, full of wordless emotions, and then she climbed down from the wagon, and went inside

the store.

*L*

When Scott went inside the jail office, he was met with the sight of Val and Cory McFay, embroiled in a competitive game of

checkers.

"Hey there, Scott," Cory called out, as Val studied the checker board intensely.

"Hey," Scott answered, coming over to stand beside the table. "Who's winning?"

"I am, as usual," Cory said, with a chortle.

"Not so," Val denied. "I'm just lettin' this old retrobate think he's winning."

"Ah," Scott said.

Val jumped one of Cory's checkers, and swooped it up in his hand. "What can I do for you, Scott? You checking in on

word about our little friend?"

"I thought I'd check," Scott said.

"Right." Val got to his feet. "You study on your next move," he told Cory, and motioned for Scott to follow him

outside in the sunshine. Pulling the door closed behind him, he said, "Haven't heard back yet anything from the orphanage

in Stockton."

Scott nodded. "I didn't expect that you would have."

"How's she doing?" Val asked.

"She's doing well. Eats like a horse. She helped Johnny and I mend fence today."

Val reached into his shirt pocket for a cigarette and a match, striking the match on the wall of the building, and lighting up.

"Did you get any more information out of her?" he asked.

"Not too much. A little here and there. I haven't pushed her."

"Hmm," Val said, looking thoughtful.

"What's your thoughts on it?" Scott asked.

"Don't know. She's a hard one to figure. How about you?"

"Well," Scott said, "I don't buy the orphanage story. At least not completely."

"Agreed," Val said.

"Well, I'll let you get back to having Cory whip your butt at checkers," Scott said.

"Humph," Val snorted. He regarded Scott with the expression of one friend to another.

"What are your plans about her, if there's no answer, or not the answer that makes sense?" Val asked.

"I don't know," Scott admitted.

"Want some advice?"

"I'll listen," Scott said.

"I'd start doing some of that 'pushing' that you mentioned earlier, if I was you. A lot more of it. Little girl needs

to answer some questions. Plain."

"I don't disagree with that," Scott said. "Thanks, Val."

"Right. Check in with me in a couple of days again."

Scott waved a hand of acknowledgement, and crossed the street, heading back towards the saloon. He had a cold beer, sat for a few

minutes, and then headed over to the mercantile.

When he walked in, it was a hubbub of activity. It took his eyes a moment or two to adjust to the dimmer light after coming

in from the sunlight.

When he saw Teresa near the counter, talking with Mrs. McRae, the storekeeper's wife, he made his way over to her.

"There you are," Teresa said, looking relieved, and sounding as though he'd been gone for hours.

"I was only gone a few minutes," he pointed out.

Teresa began telling him what she'd succeeded in getting Charlie to agree to getting.

"We're good on everything, I think. She even chose a dress. It's just the shoes now."

"Okay," Scott said, and, spotting Charlie, sitting in a chair, looking at shoes, he went that way, Teresa following

behind him.

"How's it going?" he asked, and Charlie looked up at him.

"What did the sheriff say?" she asked, looking worried.

"He didn't say much. He hasn't heard anything."

"Okay." Immediately, Charlie's face lost its look of worry, and became bright, and animated.

"Teresa wants me to get these," the child said, pointing at a pair of fancier shoes, obviously meant to go with the dress.

"They're nice," Scott acknowledged.

"For helping outside?" Charlie pointed out. "Or riding, if I get to go again with you?"

"Well, no, not for those things," Scott said.

"She's saying she wants boots," Teresa interjected.

When Charlie looked up at him for affirmation, he said, "I told her she could get boots."

"See?" Charlie told Teresa, looking a little smug. "I told you so."

Teresa rolled her eyes heavenward.

"No need to be rude," Scott said, and Charlie's face lost some of its smugness.

Scott went to a nearby shelf, and after searching for a couple of minutes, he pulled two pairs of cowboy boots off, and brought

them back over to where Charlie sat.

"How about these?" he asked her.

"I like this pair," she said, pointing.

"Well, try them on. See if they're the right size."

The boots, to Charlie's joy, fit her well, and she wore them out of the store, after Scott had paid for everything, including the

dressier shoes.

The ride home was very different than the ride in. Charlie's somber and worried demeanor was gone, replaced by

happy chattering. When Teresa told her she should wear the new dress at supper that evening, the little girl didn't even

balk.

"Maybe I will," she said.

Once at home, Charlie immersed herself into the family's activities. She helped Jelly pull weeds in the garden, and

then tagged after Scott as he fed grain to the cattle. When he and Johnny came inside to wash up for the evening meal,

they found Charlie in the kitchen, helping Maria frost a chocolate cake.

"Buen ayudante," Maria said, with a smile at Charlie that already held fondness.

"That's good," Scott said, and couldn't help the smidge of pride at her words.

"What's that?" Charlie asked, looking up at Johnny for clarification.

"Good helper," Johnny translated, running his finger around the rim of the frosting bowl, and then licking it off.

"Gracious," Charlie said, smiling at Maria.

It was before dinner was ready, when Scott was having a drink in the library with Murdoch and Johnny, that Teresa came

in, clearing her throat to get their attention. When they all stopped talking, she said,

"Charlie wanted to show you all what she picked out today in town."

When they all turned to look, they were all quiet for a moment, seeing the child standing there, in a blue dress, with lace

at the neck, and the new shoes. Her hair was hanging down her back, in waves from having been braided earlier.

Johnny was the first to gain his speech. "Whoo whee," he drawled, and came towards Charlie, walking in a circle around her.

"You look awfully pretty in that dress."

Charlie smiled a little. "Thanks, Johnny."

"Well, I'm not lyin'. Look at this, buttons all the way up the back," he expostulated, giving her a teasing wink.

Murdoch motioned Charlie to come over to him, and when she was standing directly in front of him, he took her hands in his

large ones. "You look as though you stepped out of a bandbox," he told her. "You and Teresa will grace our dinner table tonight with

your presence."

"Thank you," Charlie said.

Her eyes sought Scott out. "What do you think, Scott?" she asked, and everybody in the room knew that it was his approval

that she most wanted. Scott reached out to smooth her hair.

"You look beautiful," he told her. "I'm glad you decided to wear it."

Charlie smiled, showing those dimples that weren't often seen.

*L*


	5. Moral support

After the family had finished supper, Maria pulled a apron from the shelf and tied it around Charlie's waist. It was big enough that

it went around twice.

"You can help," she told the girl, without ceremony.

After the dishes were done and Charlie came to the door of Murdoch's library, she hesitated in the doorway.

"Come in, sweetheart," Murdoch said, seeing her standing there.

Johnny patted the spot beside him on the couch, and Charlie went to sit down. She tucked her feet up under herself,

and that's when they saw that her feet were bare.

"What happened to the new shoes?" Scott asked her.

"Oh," she said, looking a little embarrassed. "They were pinching my feet."

Johnny chuckled. "I know how you feel, pequeno," he said, and rubbed her hair affectionately.

She sat quietly, listening to them talk about this and that, and then, when the clock struck eight times,

Scott said, "Go on up and get ready for bed."

Charlie got obediently to her feet, and he added, "I'll be up with Ivanhoe in a few minutes."

"Alright. Goodnight, Murdoch. 'Night, Johnny."

Both Murdoch and Johnny called goodnights after her, and Charlie went up the stairs.

"That's some kid," Johnny said, into the silence. "You should have seen her this mornin', Murdoch, when she was helpin'

me and Scott. She did fine."

"What did Val have to say?" Murdoch asked.

"He hasn't heard anything," Scott told him.

"Hmm," Murdoch said, looking pensive.

Scott sensed the concern in his father's face, and tone. "I'm going to talk to her," he said.

"Well, I think a talk is in order," Murdoch said, in apparent agreement.

At Scott's nod of reluctance, Murdoch offered, "Would you like me to try talking to her?"

"No, sir. I'll do it." Scott tossed back what was left of his drink, and set the glass down on the coffee table. "Maybe not tonight,

though," he added, with a shrug, and half-smile.

*L*

As he had the previous night, Scott gave a light tap on the guest bedroom door.

"Come in," Charlie called out.

And, as she'd been the night before, Scott found her sitting on the big bed, cross-legged, and in a nightgown that he

assumed had been purchased that afternoon on the shopping trip.

He sat down on the bed, and flipped open the book. "Let's see," he said casually, "we were here, right?" and he began

to read from page four.

Charlie scooted to his side. "No," she said, "we already read that part."

"Did we?" Scott asked, playing along.

"Yes." Charlie leaned over his arm to peer at the pages, reading silently. "We were right here," she said, pointing at the exact spot

that Scott had stopped reading at the night before.

"Okay," he said, keeping his amusement hidden.

After that, he began to read, and again, he felt Charlie seem to relax, leaning against him.

He read five to six more pages, and then stopped, marking the spot with a bookmark. "That's all for tonight," he said.

"Can't we read just another page or two?" she asked.

"No. I'm tired, and you need to get to sleep, too."

Scott laid the book on the nightstand, and said, "Get under the blankets," and then once she was laying down,

he pulled them up around her.

"Were you warm enough last night?" he asked her.

"Yes. Why is it so hot in the daytime, and then it gets cold at night?"

"The heat escapes into space, and that makes the temperature drop really low," Scott explained.

"Oh." She looked up at him out of those wide eyes, as if he'd said something stellar. "You know about a lot of things, don't you?"

"Some things," he said.

"Did you go to college?" she asked.

"I did." After a couple of moments, he took the opening to ask, "How do you do at school? Are you a good student?"

There was a momentary silence.

"I guess so. I like to read."

"What about mathematics?" he asked.

"I'm not so good at that," she said, and smiled at him a little.

"Everybody has some things that they're better at than other things. Schooling is important, though. A person needs to

get as much of it as they can," Scott said.

While it looked as though she was pondering that, he asked, "Did you thank Teresa for helping you today? With the clothes?"

"No."

When Scott was quiet, Charlie said, quickly, "I forgot. I will tomorrow."

"Alright."

"I didn't thank you, either. I appreciate everything that you bought me," she said.

"You're welcome."

There was a soft sigh. "I like it here."

"I'm glad about that," Scott said.

He hesitated, and then asked, "What happened to your parents?"

"I don't remember my father. My mother died when I was six."

"Had she been ill?" Scott asked.

"I'm not sure. I remember she used to cough a lot. And the doctor was always coming."

"So after that, you went to the orphanage?" he asked gently.

Again, a hesitation on her part. "Not right away. I-I went to live with some other people at first."

"There weren't any relatives that you could make your home with?" he asked.

"Most people don't want a little kid around that's not really theirs," Charlie said, sounding older than her years.

Scott felt an instinct, a little parental maybe, that told him that she'd been pushed enough for this particular conversation.

"I think you'd better get to sleep," he said, tucking the blankets tighter around her.

"This is the best place I've ever lived at," she said.

"Better than an orphanage, anyway," Scott said, half-teasing.

Charlie didn't give a glimmer of a smile. "I mean anywhere," she said, in total seriousness. "I've lived lots of places. This is the best."

"I'm glad," Scott said. He stood up, and turned down the lamp, picking up the volume of Ivanhoe.

"You can leave it there," she said.

"No chance," Scott said, looking down at her in the near-darkness. "You might try to cheat and read ahead."

He thought he heard a soft giggle from her. Then, as he would have turned towards the door, she said, "Scott?"

"What?" he asked, pausing.

"Would it be alright if I gave you a hug goodnight?"

For a moment, he was surprised, and then pleased. "I think that'd be alright, yeah," he said. He sat back down on the edge of the bed,

and Charlie sat up, wrapping her arms around his neck. Scott gave her a hug, and then when she sank back down on the

bed, he tucked the blankets up again.

"'Night, Scott," she said, sounding sleepy.

"'Night, Charlie."

*L*

At the same time the next morning, there was a tap on Scott's door.

"Come in," he said, from where he sat on his bed, pulling on his boots.

"Good morning, Scott," Charlie said, opening the door, and this time she came in without being invited.

"Morning."

Charlie sat down on the bed beside him. "This is soft," she said, and bounced up and down, causing him to

have difficulty pulling on his boot.

"Charlie," he said.

"Sorry," she said, and sat still. "What are you going to do today?"

"Whatever Murdoch has planned. First I need to go to Stockton to take care of some business."

"Can I go with you?" she asked.

Finished with his boots, Scott turned to look at her. "I think I'll have you stay here."

"How come?" Charlie asked, with obvious disappointment.

"There's lots of things you can do around here."

"But I want to go with you," she persisted.

"Charlie-" he began to reason.

"I went yesterday with you and Johnny, and I was a lot of help. Johnny said so. And I didn't complain about anything," she

reminded him.

"I know how much help you were. I was there, too, remember?"

"So can I go with you today?" she asked again.

Instead of thinking it out in his mind first, Scott reacted with his gut instinct.

"Charlie, I want you to listen to me," he said, looking her in the eye. "Today I have some things to do. It's going

to be a long day and that's why I'm saying that you need to stay here."

He could see that she was winding up to protest, and to forestall that, he held up a hand.

"Stop," he ordered, and she was quiet, looking at him, a little reproachfully.

"Arguing with me, or any adult, when you're told no about something, isn't the best idea. It's disrespectful."

Her eyes widened at his stern tone.

"I didn't mean to argue," she said.

"I think that you did intend to," Scott corrected, and her eyes, if possible, widened even more. "I don't like it, and I want

you to stop doing it."

Charlie looked abashed, and then subdued. "Okay," she said, and looked away from his eyes.

"Okay," he echoed, and then after a couple of moments of silence, he patted her knee.

"There's plenty to keep you busy around here."

She nodded, without answering, and Scott said, "You're not sulking, are you?"

"No."

"That's good. Because sulking is another thing that I don't like."

*L*

During breakfast, though she ate just as heartily as ever, Charlie was mostly quiet. A fact, which did not go

unnoticed by anyone. As soon as breakfast was over, and Charlie had gone to help with the dishes, Johnny

gave Scott a jab in his ribs.

"What's wrong with the kid?" he demanded.

"Nothing's wrong with her," Scott said.

"Everything go alright last night?" Murdoch asked.

"Yes. Fine. It was this morning that she's not happy about," Scott said, and then gave a brief explanation to both Johnny and his

father.

"Why can't you take her along?" Johnny asked.

"I've got a stop I need to make after I go to the bank," Scott said.

"To the-ah-" Murdoch said, with a wave of the hand.

When Scott nodded, Murdoch said, "Good idea."

*L*

At the last minute, Johnny announced that he was riding along with Scott to Stockton.

"Got a problem with that?" he asked Scott.

"No problem," Scott said.

"Murdoch told me where you're goin'. I thought I'd be moral support and all that."

"Thanks," Scott said wryly.

He went to find Charlie after the horses were saddled and waiting.

She was sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen, wearing an apron again, and with flour on her hands and her face.

"Rolls for supper," Maria told him.

"I know they'll be good," Scott said. To Charlie he said, "I'll see you later, alright?"

Charlie nodded at him, still looking a little dejected.

"Listen to Maria," he added.

"Okay."

"Por supuesto ella escuchara," Maria said, turning from the stove, where she was stirring something in a pot.

Johnny and he began their ride to Stockton in silence. Scott was deep in thought, and when Johnny reached over and

gave him a shoulder-shove, he turned, a little startled.

"What?" he asked.

"I said your name twice," Johnny said.

"I didn't hear you, sorry."

"Wanna share your thoughts? I'll listen." Johnny offered.

Scott looked into the tanned face of the brother that he'd come to love, and to trust.

"Just thinking about Charlie," he said.

"I figured," Johnny said. "Turnin' into somethin' way more than you bargained for, right?"

"Asute, little brother," Scott told him, and at Johnny's wrinkled frown, he added, "Smart. Perceptive."

"Well, thank you. About time you were realizin' it," Johnny said, with a grin.

"She doesn't have the traits of a kid that's been living in an orphanage," Scott said, thinking out loud.

"She's a good kid," Johnny defended.

"I mean other things. Her table manners. The way she can ride. I came in yesterday and found her at the piano."

"So?" Johnny asked.

"So, being proficient on the piano isn't something that's taught in an orphanage."

"Is she proficient?" Johnny asked.

"I didn't catch that much, but she's not a beginner."

"Hmm," Johnny said, looking thoughtful. "Why don't you just ask her? Call her out on the whole thing?"

"I don't know," Scott said, honestly. "Maybe I don't want to know. I mean, I like the kid."

"Don't borrow trouble," Johnny advised. "See what they say at the orphanage first."

*L*


	6. Mystery magnified

Beginning their ride home again, both Johnny and Scott, stunned into silence for a bit. A couple of times, Johnny

met Scott's gaze, and gave his shoulders a light shrug. As if to say that he couldn't comprehend what in the heck was

going on, either. Just as Scott couldn't.

When they'd finished their business at the bank, and then asked for directions to the street where the orphanage was

located on, they rode there. They'd both entered thru the heavy, wooden front doors, with trepidation.

It was dark inside, it seemed like. Both of them had to let their eyes adjust a bit. It was while that was still occurring that

a nun, stealth-like, appeared at Johnny's right elbow, startling him by her sudden and silent appearance, to the point that he let loose.

"Se asusta el infierno fuera de mi," he muttered.

The nun said, "May I assist you gentlemen in some way?"

Johnny, who'd gotten a venomous look from his brother at the language that had spewed forth from his lips, gave

a shrug to Scott, and hoped that the woman didn't understand the Spanish language.

"Yes, ma'm," Scott said. "I'd like to talk to someone about a child."

"Well, yes, of course. That would be very nice. We have many children here needing homes. Will your wife

be joining the conversation?" the woman asked.

Johnny's eyebrows shot up, and Scott hastened to correct the misconception.

"No. I'm not married," he began.

"I see," she said, in quiet disapproval. "Well, we do have some older boys that need homes. Perhaps as a single

man, that would be something you'd like to discuss with our director?"

"No, ma'm," Scott went on. "You see, it's a particular child that I'm inquiring about."

"I see. Well, perhaps you should come this way," she said, and turned, walking down a long hallway.

Scott followed, with Johnny behind him, giving a look around and thinking that it was just out-and-out gloomy.

The nun ushered them into a small office, with a desk that was so large it took up the majority of the room. Piles of

papers were stacked on the desk.

"Someone will be with you shortly," the woman said, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

The brothers exchanged a long look, and then Scott shook his head a little, and found a chair to sit down in.

Johnny, meanwhile, walked about the room, looking at the pictures and certificates that were posted on the walls.

"Watch your language, will you?" Scott told him.

"She's part cat or somethin'," Johnny protested. "One minute she wasn't there, and the next she was. Part Apache, maybe."

"Well, watch it," Scott said.

"Gloomy place," Johnny observed, still reading over the certificates. "I hate to think of the kid havin' to stay here."

"Hmmm," Scott said, in answer.

Johnny went to the only window in the room, and lifted the curtains to look outside.

"There's some kids out here," he said. "Little bit of a yard to play in." He dropped the curtain, and turned back to look

at Scott. "This ain't no place for a kid to grow up. I mean, I lived in some bad places myself as a kid, but at least I usually had some

room to run around outside. This big monstracity of a building, and that's all the room they've got for the kids to play?"

"Maybe they have more play area somewhere else," Scott said.

"I bet they don't," Johnny predicted, walking over to the door, and then back into the center of the room again.

"Sit down, will you?" Scott told him. "You're making me nervous, pacing back and forth like that."

"I don't see why the kid can't just stay with us," Johnny said, and came to sit down in the chair closest to Scott's. "I mean,

you tell 'em where she is, and see what we have to do in order to keep her."

"Keep her?" Scott said, giving his brother an irritated look. "When you say 'keep her' like that, it sounds as though you're

talking about a puppy."

"Alright. Adopt, then," Johnny specified. "See what you have to do for that."

When Scott was quiet, Johnny reached out and gave his shoulder a light slap. "Well? You want to, don't ya?"

"I don't know," Scott said.

At Johnny's somewhat censorious look, Scott sighed and said, "Well, yeah, I think maybe so. But we haven't even talked

to anyone yet. Let's not jump the gun here."

The door opened at that point in the conversation, and a tall woman entered the room. She nodded at both

Johnny and Scott. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said.

"Good afternoon," Scott responded.

"Ma'm," Johnny said in greeting.

"I'm Sister Lavinia. I'm the director here. I understand you want to inquire about a child?"

"That's right," Scott said. "You should have received a telegram a few days ago sent by a Sheriff Val from Green River. He

was inquiring about a possible runaway from your orphanage here."

"I think I did receive that," the woman said, and lifted a few papers. "I haven't been able to keep up on my correspondence

this week. We've had illness here among our staff-"

She hesitated. "I haven't had a chance to reply to Sheriff-I'm sorry?"

"Val."

"Yes. Well, if I remember, it was about a young girl, about ten or eleven, was that it?"

"Yes, ma'm. Her name's Charlotte. Charlotte Bays," Scott said.

"Well, of course if we'd had a runaway by that name, I would have responded without fail. But since we don't, I'm afraid

I was a bit lax on my reply."

"Possibly Charlie, then?" Scott asked, and at the Mother Superior's puzzled face, he said, "She likes to be called Charlie."

"No. I'm sorry. We don't have any child by that name here," the woman said.

"Well, it's possible that's not her real name. If I describe her, maybe you could tell me if you have any girls that

have gone missing recently, with a different name," Scott went on.

"I'd like to help you, Mr.-" she hesitated.

"Lancer. Scott Lancer."

"Mr. Lancer. I'm proud to say that we have no young people missing. No runaways or even attempted runaways, in over a year. And even

that one didn't get far before he came back."

"Oh," Scott said, feeling even more confused.

At the woman's raised eyebrows, Scott said, "Well, that's wonderful, that you don't have children trying to run off. I'm sorry, Sister,

I'm just real puzzled."

"The child you're talking about, she said she came from here, with us? Are you certain?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'm, that's what she said," Scott affirmed.

"Hmm. That is puzzling," the woman agreed. "We try to give the children here as happy of a life as we can, of course, but it is unusual to

hear of a child claiming to be from an orphanage, if they're really not."

"I agree," Scott said.

"Perhaps it was another orphanage that the child resided at? And not this one?" she suggested.

"She said it was this one," Scott said.

The Mother Superior shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lancer. I just don't have any information that will help you."

Aware that the conversation was at an end, Scott nodded, and stood up. "Thank you very much," he said.

Johnny stood up, as well.

"You're more than welcome. I wish I could have been of more help," she said.

They said their goodbyes, and went back down the same gloomy hallway and out the same wooden doors.

As they went down the multitude of steps to where the horses where tied, Johnny said a simple, "Well, damn. If that don't take the cake."

"You said it, brother," Scott said, in agreement.

L

The above mentioned event, and conversation explained why Scott was preoccupied on the beginning of the ride home. Johnny,

who recognized the set of his brother's jaw, stayed quiet, letting Scott think things through.

Eventually, he did speak up to ask, "You alright?"

Scott gave him a brief sideways glance. "Not really. No."

"It's tough to figure," Johnny said.

"Not tough. Impossible," Scott said.

As they rode along, Scott began to voice his thoughts aloud. "Why would she say she'd run off from an orphanage, when she

hadn't?"

Johnny shook his head. "I dunno."

"It makes no sense," Scott said.

"You're right. It doesn't. But you said you had your instincts sayin' that she wasn't a kid from an orphanage," Johnny reminded

him. "The piano playin', and the way she rides, all of that."

"True. But to hear it, straight out like that, well, what am I supposed to think now?"

"I hate to say it," Johnny said. "But maybe since she's not a runaway from an orphanage, she's just a runaway?"

Scott met Johnny's eyes.

"Yeah. I've thought of that, too. That must be it. She's run away from her family," Scott said.

"Her folks are dead, though, right? That's what she said. Or do you think she's lyin' about that, too?" Johnny asked.

"No," Scott said, without hesitation. "I don't think she's lying about that."

"So from other folks then? Somebody that took her in?" Johnny suggested.

"Maybe so." Scott sighed. "Better go thru and let Val know what we found out, and see what he thinks."

L


	7. Mystery solved, nope

Once they'd arrived in Green River, Johnny and Scott dismounted in front of the jail, tying their horses to the hitching post

in front.

"I'm parched," Johnny said, giving Scott a slap on the shoulder. "Let's get a beer."

"I want to talk to Val first," Scott said. He gave Johnny a glance. "You go on, though. I'll meet you over there."

"Naw, I'll wait for ya," Johnny said, following Scott.

They went inside the jail, which was sweltering in the heat. With no sign of Val in the front, they walked back towards

the cells, to find him sweeping up.

"Staying cool, boys?" Val asked.

"Not hardly," Johnny answered.

Val stopped sweeping, and ran an arm across his forehead.

"Let's go out where there's a breeze," he said, and leaned the broom against the cell wall. He led the way

thru, and outside, where he left the jail door open, and sat down on the bench outside.

"What trouble are the two of you up to today?" Val asked them, beginning to roll himself a cigarette.

"Too damn hot to get into much trouble," Johnny said, sitting down on the bench beside Val.

"That's the truth," Val agreed.

Val looked up at Scott, who was leaning against the side of the jail building.

"You're quiet," he said. "Something on your mind?"

Scott nodded. "We just came from Stockton."

"Yeah?" Val asked.

"We stopped by the orphanage," Scott said. "Trying to find out why you hadn't gotten an answer from them. About

Charlie."

"I take it from the look on your face that you found out why," Val said.

"They don't have any missing kids. And no record of a girl by that name, ever," Scott said flatly.

"Hmm," Val said, and struck a match and held it to the tip of his rolled cigarette. He took a long draw, and

said, "Well, that's an interesting twist to the story."

"Interesting isn't the word that I'd choose," Scott said. "My word wouldn't be that polite."

"Well, what's your thoughts?" Val asked him.

"Maybe a runaway from her family? Any reports from nearby towns about a missing girl?" Scott asked.

"Nope. I can send a few wires. See what I can find out," Val said.

"Alright."

Val leveled a look at Scott's discouraged demeanor. "I still say there's a sure-fire way to find out the true story."

Scott looked down for a moment, scuffing his boot on the wooden sidewalk. "Yeah. I know."

"It wouldn't do her any harm," Val went on. "And then you'd have your answers."

"I don't disagree," Scott said. He gave Val a nod. "Thanks. For sending out those wires."

Val nodded in return. "I'll get it done this afternoon, or tomorrow morning."

Scott looked towards his brother. "You ready?" he asked.

Johnny got to his feet. "Have a beer with us," he told Val.

"Next time, boys," Val said, and so it was just the two of them that went to the saloon, each of them ordering

a beer.

They sat at a corner table, and after a time of silence, Johnny gave Scott another shoulder push.

"Your conversation skills aren't the best lately, brother," he said.

Scott looked at him. "Sorry."

"They way I see it is this," Johnny said. "You can keep on the way that you are, until you hear somethin' back

from the wires that Val sends out. If you hear anything back. Or, you can go home and have it out with the

kid."

Scott nodded, without answering, and Johnny went on. "Val might have a point. About how to convince her to

tell you the truth. A good tannin' has a way of loosening a kid's tongue, and changin' their attitude."

"Yeah," Scott said, and drank back the last of his beer, setting the mug on the table. "You ready?"

When they got home, Scott went inside, in search of Murdoch. He felt the need to talk to his father, and

ask his advice.

So Johnny was alone, unsaddling both of the horses, when Charlie came bouncing into the barn. She was

wearing the hand-me-down overalls from Teresa again, and her face was dirty, but radiant with youthful

good spirits.

"Hi, Johnny!" she greeted him.

"Hi, yourself," he said.

"Where's Scott?" she asked next.

"Talkin' with Murdoch."

"Oh. Guess what I did today!" she encouraged him.

"I can't guess."

"Try!" she insisted.

Johnny paused in his unbuckling of the cinch on Charlie. "Let's see. You rode a camel to town?"

"No, silly!"

"You went swimmin' at the swimmin' hole in your unmentionables?" he guessed next.

Charlie blushed a little, and gave him a playful poke. "No! Murdoch let me help drive the buggy when he went

over to Mrs. Pope's house! He had to take some food over there, cause her husband's been sick. And he let me

hold the reins almost the whole way over!"

"No, he didn't!" Johnny responded, pretending shock. "What's he thinkin'? It's a wonder you didn't run

the buggy clear off the road."

"Aw, Johnny," she said, and smiled sunnily at him. "I know you're teasing. And besides, Murdoch said I did

fine!"

Looking down into that bright face, Johnny felt a surge of emotion. He went back to his task of unsaddling,

thinking that he didn't envy Scott. Not if he had to get tough with Charlie, to convince her

to tell the truth. He wouldn't relish the job of handing out a spanking to the little girl. Nope. When it came to

this particular matter, he didn't envy Scott one bit.

Charlie continued to follow him, while he went about the business of putting the tack away.

"Maybe I can go for a ride with you sometime in the buggy," Charlie suggested, "And then I can show

you."

"Maybe so," Johnny said.

"Do you think it'd be alright if I went into Murdoch's study, to see Scott now?" she asked then. "Or should I wait?"

"I think they're talkin' over somethin' private," Johnny said. "You probably ought to wait."

"Oh. Okay," she said.

Charlie stayed outside with him, for a good while after that, helping him to curry the horses. They both

heard the sound of voices coming, and Charlie put the currycomb down and ran across the courtyard to meet Scott and Murdoch.

"Hi, Scott!" she greeted him, giving him one of those sunny smiles, too.

"Hey," he said.

"Did Murdoch tell you what I did?" she demanded in excitement, taking his hand in hers and tugging on it.

"No. What did you do?" he asked.

"I drove the buggy, practically by myself, over to Mrs. Pope's house!" she announced, looking up into his

face for approval.

"Well, that's good," Scott said.

"I did alright, too, didn't I, Murdoch?" she asked, turning to the older man.

"You did fine," Murdoch affirmed. "Took to it like a duck takes to water."

Charlie gave Murdoch a grateful smile.

"And I helped Maria with those rolls, too. The ones for supper," she went on, still holding onto Scott's hand.

"Sounds like you've had a busy day," Scott said.

"Uh huh. I did. It was a real good day, too," she said.

By now Johnny had joined their circle, and Charlie looked around at all their faces.

"Did you and Johnny have a good day, too?" she asked, still cheerful.

Scott exchanged a look with Johnny, and then with his father.

Instead of answering her question, he said, quietly, "I want you to go take a bath and get cleaned up. I've got

some work to do, and then, before supper, I want to talk to you."

Charlie tilted her head a little, looking up at him. "Okay. In the study?"

"No. Come to my room."

Charlie gave him another longer look, and then looked at Johnny and Murdoch as if hoping for a clue, and then

back at Scott again.

"Is something wrong?" she asked then.

Again, instead of answering her question, Scott said, "Go on and get cleaned up."

Charlie's face lost its sunniness. She felt it, rather than knew it, that Scott was upset about something. He hadn't

been curt, or anything of that sort, but Charlie knew.

She gave him a final look, and then went to the house to do as he said.

L

Scott had finished helping set fence posts, and he and Johnny went into the welcoming coolness of the

house.

"I'm gonna take a bath," Johnny announced, as they parted ways at the top of the stairs. "See you at supper. Good luck with

the kid."

"Right," Scott said, going on down the hallway to his own room.

He stripped off his sweaty shirt, and washed with the water in the pitcher on the small table. He had rested for a few minutes on

the bed, thinking, and gotten up again, going to get a clean shirt from the armoire. He was buttoning

his shirt, standing in front of the dresser mirror, when there was a quiet tap on the door. Just the faintest of a tap.

"Come in," he said, and the door opened slowly. Still looking in the mirror, Scott saw Charlie there in the doorway,

in the reflection.

When the child just stood there, Scott said, "Come on in here," to her.

When Charlie had stepped into the room, just barely over the threshold of the door, Scott said, "Close the door."

Charlie shot him a dubious glance, but turned to close the door behind her.

His shirt still untucked from his pants, Scott turned away from the mirror and went to sit on the end of the bed.

"Come here, Charlie," he told her.

Charlie looked even more unsure of herself. "What's wrong, Scott?" she asked, standing where she was.

"Charlie," he said again, inserting a good portion of sternness into his voice. "Come here."

The little girl came then, just out of his arm's reach, and stopped. To solve the problem, Scott reached a

hand out and pulled her close, to where she was standing just in front of him.

"I'm going to talk to you seriously now," he said. "I want you to answer me, and I want you to tell

me the truth. Do you understand?"

She nodded, and started to say something. "Scott-"

"Be still," he told her. "I'm going to ask you some things, and that's when you can talk, and answer."

Charlie subsided into silence, looking at him in trepidation.

"Have you been comfortable staying here?" he asked her. "You've been happy?"

"Really happy," she said, surprised by his question.

"Do you think everybody here has been welcoming to you? Treated you right?"

She nodded, feeling even more unsure of herself. "Yes."

"Then don't you think, that in return for that, you should treat all of us with the same care and

respect?" he asked.

Charlie furrowed her forehead, puzzled. She nodded at him again. "I thanked Teresa, like you said to, for helping

me with the clothes."

Scott sighed. "This isn't about the clothes. When I was in Stockton today, Johnny and I went to the orphanage."

He waited, watching for her reaction. Charlie studied his face, her brown eyes widening, in what Scott

knew by now was her way of showing alarm, or surprise.

"Oh," she said, in a small voice.

Scott felt her move just the slightest bit, as if to edge herself away from him.

"Stay put," he said firmly.

"I told the sheriff that about the orphanage because-well, I was scared," Charlie said.

"It doesn't really matter why you did it," he told her. "What matters is that you kept on with it. Now, I want to know

where and who you're running from, and I want to know now."

Charlie bit at her lip, and to forestall any further postponement of the truth, Scott said, with authority,

"Right now."

"My aunt in Stockton," Charlie said, quietly.

When she hesitated, he prompted her, "Go on."

"Her name is Katherine Burch. She's supposed to be-like my guardian, I guess. She's my father's sister."

"Alright," Scott said, feeling as though that at last they were getting somewhere. "Why did you run off from her?"

Thinking he might hear tales of abuse, Scott prepared himself.

"It's not so much that I ran off," Charlie said. "It's more-I just left."

"That makes no sense at all," Scott said.

"She doesn't really want me," Charlie said, and she said it in a matter-of-fact way, not as if she

was simply trying to get his sympathy.

"Why do you say that?" he asked her.

"She tells me so. I mean, sometimes she does," she said.

Scott studied her, thinking.

"She has her own life to lead," Charlie went on, and it was obvious that she was quoting an adult, most probably

the mysterious aunt. "I get in her way."

"Are you sure that she feels that way?" Scott felt compelled to point out. "Sometimes, an older person

doesn't have the most time or energy for a child. It doesn't necessarily mean that they don't care about you."

He was thinking about his own childhood then, of growing up with a successful, busy grandfather, who didn't always

have the patience for a small boy.

"She tells me that if she had her way, she'd be free of me." Charlie shrugged a little. "We get along okay, I guess,

as long as I stay out of her way, so she can do all her ladies' clubs and her charity work."

"Well, I'm sorry," Scott said. "That doesn't sound ideal. But we need to get in touch with her as soon

as possible. She must be frantic, worried about you."

Charlie shook her head, and said, "No. She isn't."

"She has to be," Scott insisted. "I mean, I'd be worried out of my mind if it was me."

Charlie gave him a sad look. "Not everybody's like you, Scott," she said, sounding older than her years. "She probably

hasn't even contacted the sheriff in Stockton, or anybody, to tell them I'm gone."

"Of course she has," Scott said.

Charlie shrugged in answer, as if to say that he would see, when the time came. "I've left before, once it was for a few days, and

she didn't tell anybody then."

"You've done this before?" Scott asked, shocked.

"I was just at a friend's house. But she didn't even look for me."

Scott thought that couldn't be right. No adult wouldn't notice that a child was missing, or report it.

"Well," Scott said, and then watched her face. Radiant earlier, now it was sad and accepting.

"It's not right that you let it go on," he said, trying not to let her sad face deter him from

scolding her. "It wasn't fair of you, to do that to all of us. And, no matter how you and your aunt get

along, it wasn't fair to her, either."

Charlie studied him seriously, and then asked, "Are you mad at me?'

"I'm not pleased with you," he said. "You should have told me the truth. And we haven't even discussed

the dangerous part of all this. A little girl can't just take off and go wherever she pleases. There's a lot of

people and situations that could cause you to be hurt."

"Nobody cares, though," Charlie said, as serious as he'd ever heard her be.

Scott reacted instinctively. He pulled her to him, and lifted her to sit on his knee.

He lifted her chin with his hand. "I care," he said, decisively.

When he released her chin, she was still looking him in the eye.

"And, because I do care, that's why I'm going to talk to your aunt, and see if you can come and visit

us sometimes," he said.

Charlie's eyes widened even more. "For truly?" she asked. "You mean it?"

"For truly. I mean it," he repeated.

Charlie wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a hug that nearly strangled him. "Thank you, Scott!" she

said, smiling again.

"If she'll agree to it," he amended.

"She won't care," Charlie said, with certainty. "I told you that she wants me out of her hair."

"Well, we'll see," he said. "You might want to change your mind after we talk about a few things."

At her puzzled look, he said, "There's more to this caring business than just coming here to visit. Caring about

somebody is complicated."

"What does that mean?" she asked him.

"It means, that having me care about you like I do, well, that gives me certain rights, and responsibilities."

"Like what?" she asked curiously.

"Like I get to tell you what I think, about things that you might do. And I'll scold you, sometimes, if you need it. Like I'm

doing now," he told her.

"That's not so bad," Charlie said. "I wouldn't mind that."

"There's more," Scott said. "After today, if you lie to me, like you have been, you'll be punished."

Charlie looked at him out of those brown eyes, puzzled at first, and then wary. "Punished?"

"Uh huh." He kept quiet, letting it soak in with her what he was implying.

"What sort of punishment?" she asked.

"Well, that depends, I guess, on what you've done. Lying about something like this, well, that would earn you a spanking."

Charlie stared at him, looking as if she was unsure if he was serious.

"Nobody's ever done that," she said. "Spanked me, I mean."

Scott didn't answer that. He just waited.

"I don't think I'd like it much," she said, in a small voice.

"Likely not," he agreed.

"I had a friend once, and she said her father told her he spanked her because he loved her, and he didn't want her

to do wrong, and turn out to be a bad person," Charlie said.

"Sounds about right," Scott said.

"I won't lie to you anymore, Scott," she said.

"Good. And you won't take off from your aunt again, right?"

Charlie hesitated. "If I say I won't, that might be a lie. And I just promised that I wouldn't lie to you anymore."

She looked slightly pleased with herself.

"Alright. Let me put it another way, then," Scott said, not amused. "If you do, and I find out about it, you'll get

a spanking for that."

Charlie lost her smug expression. She had the look of a kid whose world was slightly off its familiar axis.

"Understood?" he asked.

Charlie nodded, her expression wary now, and not so confident.

"Alright. Let's go down to supper," Scott said, and gave her a gentle push off his knee.

Downstairs, with everyone seated in their places at the dinner table, Charlie was subdued, even when given

rousing praise by Johnny for the rolls that she'd helped to make.

Scott gave the details to the family, about Charlie's aunt, and said that he'd be going to send a

telegram in the morning. Then, quickly, so that Charlie would know that he'd meant it, he went on to

say that he planned to arrange visits for her between Stockton and Lancer.

"That's fine," Murdoch said, and gave the little girl a warm smile. "We'll be glad of those visits."

"Thank you, Murdoch," Charlie said politely, still subdued.

"I'm sure your aunt will be relieved to know that you're alright," Teresa offered into the conversation.

"She won't be dancing a jig," Charlie responded shortly, making a mound out of her mashed potatoes.

Teresa looked at Scott, startled, and Scott gave a brief shake of his head.

After that startled moment of silence, Charlie spoke again. "Well, she might dance a jig after all. If it's time

for her to take me to the bank, or something. She'll be glad to see me if she needs to do that."

Now all four of them exchanged puzzled looks across the child's head, as she was still poking at her food.

"What about the bank?" Johnny said.

"Sometimes I have to go with her to the bank. Because the bank president wants to see me or something," Charlie

responded.

Again, they all exchanged looks, not understanding.

"Why does he need to see you?" Scott asked.

"Because," Charlie said, matter-of-factly, and took a bite of potatoes. "Because of all the money."

L


	8. Hoof pick and a file

With his father and brother both, and Teresa as well, all looking to him accusingly, as if he'd left out an important fact, Scott

shook his head to signify that he was as much in the dark as they all were.

"What money?" he asked Charlie.

Charlie swallowed her bite of potatoes, and speared a bite of Maria's beef roast with her fork. "The money from

the gold mine," she said, and began to chew her meat.

"Charlie," Murdoch said, from his end of the table, and the little girl looked down towards him.

"We're not understanding what you're talking about," Murdoch said, kindly.

"My grandfather found gold," she said, looking up from her plate, and at all of them. "I think-" she hesitated, thinking,

"I think it was in 1849, or 1850. And then he bought a bunch of businesses in Stockton."

Stunned they all were, trying to take in what she was saying. She saw their expressions, and said,

"I can tell you about it, if you want me to."

That was putting it mildly, Scott thought. But he only looked to Murdoch, and then back at Charlie.

"Yes," he said. "After supper. You can tell us all of it then."

"Okay," the little girl said, and went back to eating her meat and potatoes. Scott, still stunned, picked up his

own fork, and tried to finish his meal, as did his father, brother, and Teresa.

L

After supper, with the dishes cleared, they went to sit in Murdoch's study, where Murdoch poured glasses of

bourbon and handed them off to his sons.

"Brandy, Teresa?" he offered.

"Yes, please," Teresa said, and Murdoch poured the brandy, and brought it over to her.

He sat down then in his own desk chair, and Johnny took a seat beside Teresa on the couch, and patted the

other side next to him. "Comere, pequeno," he told the child.

Charlie came over to him, and he pulled her down, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Scott remained standing, next to Murdoch's desk, swirling the bourbon around in his glass.

"So tell us about your grandfather," Scott prompted her.

"Well, he came to California, with this friend of his, and they were searching for gold, just like all the others, but

they got lucky, and found gold. His friend wasted most of his money, but my grandpa invested his, and he made more

money that way. There's a hotel there, the Stockton Hotel?"

"I know that hotel," Murdoch said.

"Well, that's one of his buildings," Charlie said. "I mean, it's one that he bought a long time ago."

Scott didn't think so, he thought she would have mentioned it, but he asked to be certain.

"Is your grandfather still living?"

"No," Charlie said, and moved enough to tuck her legs under her. "He died a long time ago. My grandma, too. I don't

remember them."

"So, whose father was he?" Teresa asked. "Your mother's or your father's?"

"He was my mother's father."

"And your mother had other siblings?" Scott asked. "Sisters and brothers?"

"No. There was just her."

"Why didn't you tell me this upstairs?" Scott asked. "It is important, Charlie."

"Not to me," the child said. "Besides, I thought you all liked me already, just because I'm me."

Scott opened his mouth, intent on telling Charlie that she was on the cusp of being rude, but Murdoch

spoke first. "Of course we do," he said. "But Scott's right. It is something that we should know."

Scott waited for a moment. "You said your aunt is your father's sister?" he asked her.

"Uh huh."

"So basically, all the money is yours?" Johnny clarified.

Charlie shrugged. "I guess so."

For a long few moments, the room was silent, as all four adults took in the fact that Charlie was, in effect, an heiress.

Or, if not an heiress, a little girl with a lot of money to her name.

Charlie gave them all an observant glance. "I know what you're thinking," she said. "The same thing as everybody

thinks when they hear about it. That I'm rich, or something. But I'm really not."

"What do you mean?" Johnny asked her.

"My aunt's in charge of the money," Charlie said. "I don't have anything to do with it."

Scott felt concern hit his gut with a force. He knew, without asking any further questions, what the situation was.

"Do you know how your aunt got guardianship for you?" Scott asked her, gently.

"There wasn't anybody else to do it," Charlie said, with a shrug.

Johnny didn't stop to think it out. He reacted from the heart. He reached out and gathered the little girl

to him, settling her on his lap, and hugging her against his chest.

"Sometimes, pequeno, the world's not a very fair place," he said, softly, against her ear.

"It's not so bad," Charlie said. "She's not mean or anything. She just mostly ignores me. When I get tired of

everything, I go somewhere else for awhile." She shot a look at Scott. "But Scott says not to do that anymore."

After that, nobody said anything for a few minutes. They finished their drinks, and Charlie sat where she

was, on Johnny's lap.

"Well," Murdoch said finally, into the quiet. "It's been an interesting day."

"And a long one," Teresa said.

"You'll send the telegram in the morning?" Murdoch asked Scott.

"I'll go early," Scott said.

He looked at Charlie then. "Time to head up to bed," he said.

"I don't think I can sleep," she said, but got up obediently from Johnny's lap.

"I can make you some hot chocolate," Teresa offered.

"Thanks, Teresa," Charlie said, and leaned down to hug Johnny around his neck. "Night, Johnny."

"I hope you sleep well," he told her.

Charlie straightened up, and went to Murdoch, as he was getting to his feet. Without a word, he

pulled Charlie close, and then kissed the top of her head.

"Things will be fine," he told her firmly, looking down into her upturned face.

"Goodnight, Murdoch," she said, and then walked to Scott.

Clearly waiting, she stood looking at him. "I'll be up in a few minutes," he told her.

She nodded and went up the stairs, saying 'goodnight, everybody', once again.

A chorus of goodnights followed her, and then silence ensued again in the room.

Scott sank to a seat on the couch, his forehead furrowed in worry lines.

"It's like a funeral in here," Johnny said, getting up and going to refill his glass. "Depressing. We'll have her here

for visits. Lots of visits."

Teresa sighed a little. "I'll go make her some hot chocolate," she said, and got up to go to the kitchen.

"Probably a lot more to the whole thing than what she actually knows," Murdoch observed wisely.

"Probably," Scott agreed.

"Well, the sooner the telegram is sent, then the sooner we can discuss visits with this aunt of hers," Murdoch went on.

Scott nodded. He tossed back the rest of his drink, and then stood up again.

"I'll take her up the hot chocolate," he said, "and then I think I'll turn in myself."

Murdoch came closer, and gave Scott an affectionate pat on the back. "Sleep well, son."

"I'll try," Scott said. "Goodnight."

"Night, Scott," Johnny said.

As Scott headed towards the kitchen, Johnny and his father exchanged a look. A look, that without words,

showed that they both knew the heaviness of Scott's heart. And regretted it.

L

Teresa poured the hot chocolate from the pan into a cup, and turned to Scott, who'd been leaning

against the stove, watching her.

"Do you want me to take it up to her?" she asked.

"No, I'll do it," Scott said, patting the copy of Ivanhoe in his hand. "We usually read before she goes to

sleep."

Teresa gave him a sorrowful look, that of a sister that hates to see her brother in pain.

"Do you think she'll really be able to come for visits?" Teresa asked.

"I hope so."

Teresa handed Scott the steaming cup.

"Thanks, Teresa."

Teresa stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Scott gave her a slight smile, and went upstairs.

L

At the door of the guest bedroom, Scott paused, and then knocked softly. He determined to act as

normally as possible with Charlie.

Charlie called out, "Yes, come in."

Scott opened the door, and went in. Charlie was sitting on the edge of her bed, already in her nightgown.

"Here's your chocolate," Scott said, holding the cup out to her.

"Thank you," Charlie said, taking it from him.

She gave the book in his hand a longing glance. "We get to read?" she asked him.

Scott sat down on the bed beside her. "I thought we would," he said, giving her a reflective look. "Do you not

want to?"

"No, I do want to," she said quickly. "I just thought-after you talked to me earlier-" her voice trailed off.

Scott knew what she meant, and he met her eye. "I won't take away our reading together, Charlie," he said. "Even if

I have to scold or punish you, I won't do that. Alright?"

Charlie nodded wordlessly, and Scott opened the book to where he had marked their last page the evening

before. He read then, and he read for a longer time than he normally did. Charlie sipped at her chocolate, and

drifted closer, resting her cheek on his shoulder as she usually did.

Finally, he found an appropriate stopping place, and marked it with a bookmark. He closed the book, and Charlie

raised her head from his shoulder.

"So you'll go in the morning, to send the telegram?" Charlie asked him.

"Yeah. I will."

"Okay," Charlie said, and gave a sigh.

"We'll have your aunt come here," he said. "So she can see the ranch, and feel alright about letting you come to

visit often."

"She won't come here," Charlie said immediately, flatly.

"Why wouldn't she?"

"She just won't. She wouldn't want to leave her charities and clubs," Charlie said.

"Maybe she will," Scott said, and Charlie shrugged, apparently giving in, and deciding not to argue.

"Who was the girl that was with you, that day in town on the train?" he asked.

"Just a girl I knew. She was running away from home. We met a few months ago."

"Hmm."

"I didn't really know her very well," Charlie went on, and set her empty cup on the nightstand.

After a couple of moments, Charlie said, "I don't have a lot of friends. Most kids think I'm a snob or something, just

because of the money. So they don't really want to talk to me. Or else they do want to talk to me, because they

want me to buy something."

"What about the kids at school?" Scott asked, realizing that he had no idea where she'd attended school at.

"They're all mostly from wealthy families, too. Some of them aren't very nice."

"Where's that at?" Scott asked. "Your school?"

"It was a boarding school, in Santa Catalina. I hate it," Charlie said vehemently.

Scott decided to let her comment pass by, and they were both quiet for a few moments.

"You should be getting to sleep," Scott said, and stood up, pulling back the quilt so she could scramble under

it. Charlie reached out to hug him, before she got under the covers.

When he'd tucked the quilt up around her, he reached over to turn down the lamp.

"Scott?" she said, into the semi-darkness.

"What is it, Charlie?" he asked, pausing by the door.

"I just want to be regular. Like other kids. Not rich, and not poor. Just have people to care about me, and

all that. Just be regular. Do you know what I mean?" she asked.

For a moment, Scott hesitated, afraid that his voice would show his emotion. Then he answered, as normally

as he could. "I know what you mean."

He heard her sigh a little. "Goodnight, Scott."

"Goodnight."

L

The next morning, even though Scott got up and around earlier than usual, he found that he hadn't made it

downstairs before Charlie. He tapped on her bedroom door, and when there was no answer, he opened it, to

find the room tidied up, and the bed already made, and no sign of her.

In the kitchen, he found his brother, loading up his plate with sausage and eggs, and Maria pouring Murdoch

a cup of coffee.

"Where's Charlie?" he asked, in a general way. "She's not upstairs."

"The kid was up and out early," Johnny said. "Had her breakfast already."

"Ella esta con los gatitos en granero," Maria offered, and filled Scott's cup with the coffee pot in her hand.

"Thank you," Scott said, giving the older woman a smile.

"She's real taken with those kittens," Johnny volunteered.

"I'll bet," Scott said.

"Said she's never had a pet of her own," Johnny went on, giving Scott a look to show just what he thought of that. "How

about that? You ever hear of anything such as that?"

Scott, who'd grown up without being allowed any pets, while living at his grandfather's house, understood all too well.

"I've heard of it," he said, simply, and Johnny took another look at him, understanding that Scott was talking about himself.

"No kiddin'?" he asked Scott. "Not a dog or anything?"

"Nope. Not even a bird or a fish," Scott said, reaching for a piece of bacon.

"Man, I didn't have much, but I always had an old stray dog or somethin'," Johnny said, giving his brother a look

of sympathy.

Scott shrugged. "I didn't really know what I was missing."

"Well, but the kid will know what's she's been missin'," Johnny pointed out. "Now that she's gotten to be around some animals."

Scott finished his breakfast, and found his hat, and went to the barn, finding Charlie on her knees in a corner,

cuddling the six kittens.

"Good morning, Scott," she greeted him, and he was glad to see the smile on her face.

"Good morning," he answered, and crouched down beside her, reaching out to pet the kitten in her hands.

"This one is my favorite," she said. "Don't you think it's the prettiest one?"

"It's a pretty one alright," he agreed.

"Johnny said that maybe I could pick the one I like the most, and it could be almost like my own, and I could see

it whenever I come to visit," Charlie said, with enthusiasm.

"That's good," Scott said.

Charlie rubbed the kitten's soft fur against her cheek.

"What are you going to do today?" Scott asked her.

"Murdoch says if I help Maria, that he'll take me for another buggy ride, and let me drive again," she said.

"Good," Scott said again. He rubbed the kitten's head one last time, and stood up. "I'll see you later, then."

L

It was not a joyful trip to town for Scott. He went to see Val first, but the office was empty, with no sign

of his friend. So he went to the telegraph office, and sent out the telegram to Stockton, to the sheriff's office there,

giving the details.

When he was coming back out into the sunlight, he met up with Val, coming down the sidewalk.

"I thought that was your horse, tied over there," Val said.

Scott filled Val in on what the newest developments were. "I'll probably stay close to the ranch for a few days," he told Val. "Let

me know if there's a reply, will you?"

"I will. How's the kid doing?"

"She's doing well," Scott said, and sighed.

Val gave him a look of sympathy. "Maybe some things will work out."

"Hope so," Scott said, and said goodbye, heading home.

7


	9. Frog knowledge from Johnny

The rest of the week passed uneventfully. Quietly. Which was just fine with Scott. First of all, there was plenty

of work around the ranch to keep him busy. Physically at least. Keeping his mind busy was another thing entirely.

Charlie kept herself busy, too, and it seemed to Scott that every time he saw her, she was involved with

somebody in the family, doing a project.

She was with Maria, baking cookies, or kneading bread. Or with Jelly, weeding the pepper plants in the garden. Or with Teresa, helping her

with a cross stitch in the evenings after supper. A thing which Charlie didn't particularly seem to enjoy, but at least she was

trying, which pleased Scott.

Other times, he walked into Murdoch's study, to find Charlie sitting next to him, as he drew a sketch, or listening to

him tell a story of his boyhood in Scotland.

If she wasn't doing any of that, she was playing with the kittens in the barn, or helping Johnny with the horses.

All of those things, though, were only if he himself was busy doing other things. If Scott was available, or

where she could be in his company, then she was. Tagging along with him, usually talking a mile a minute. He

found that he really enjoyed the child's company.

She was articulate, and bright, and sometimes her sense of humor caused him to chuckle out loud. A fact which Johnny

lost no time in pointing out.

"The kid makes you laugh," he said, one evening as they sat outside watching the stars.

"You say that as though you've never heard me laugh before," Scott said.

"Haven't," Johnny said. "Well, not like this, I haven't."

Scott shook his head, and then realized that it was likely that Johnny couldn't see it in the dark.

"Well, I guess she does," he allowed.

"She's a funny kid," Johnny said.

"Yeah."

"Sure is gonna be different round here, when she goes back to that aunt of hers," Johnny said, with regret.

"Yeah," Scott said again.

"It's been-how many days now?" Johnny asked. "Since you sent the telegram?"

"Three."

"And no answer back," Johnny mused. "It seems to me-"

When his brother's voice trailed off, Scott said, a little sharply, "It seems to you, what?"

"It seems to me that somebody who had a kid missin', should be in an almighty hurry to come and fetch

her," Johnny said.

"It would appear that they should be," Scott said.

"Kid might be right about the aunt," Johnny suggested.

Scott, who was reluctant to believe everything that Charlie said about the mysterious Aunt Katherine, said only, "I hope not."

"Well," Johnny went on, "It's speakin' strongly as to what sort of a woman she is, the fact that she hasn't come, or even sent a return wire."

"Maybe she's on her way," Scott said.

"Humph," Johnny said, in doubt.

Johnny was too close to what Scott feared was the truth. He swilled back his drink, and got to his feet.

"I'm turning in," he said.

"Another drink might help you to sleep," Johnny said.

For what seemed like the millionth time, Scott thought how astute that Johnny really was.

"I'll give it a try," he said, and found Johnny's shoulder in the darkness, giving it an affectionate slap. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Scott."

L

The next morning, mid-morning, Charlie was watching Johnny, as he lifted the hooves of one of the

horses, and cleaned the mud from inside, with a hoof pick.

"See this part here?" he told her, and Charlie leaned down closely to look where he was pointing.

"That part?" she asked.

"Yeah. That part of their hoof is called the frog."

Charlie gave Johnny a look that plainly suggested that he must be teasing her. She shook her head at him, smiling.

"It is," he told her, and went on cleaning out the caked-in mud.

"Why is it called that?" Charlie asked, curiously.

"That I don't know. I just know that it is."

"That's funny," she said, and watched as he laid the hoof pick down, and picked up a file.

As he began to file the hoof, she said, "It's sort of like he's having his toenails cut."

"Yeah. It's sort of like that."

"Does that hurt him?" she asked.

"Does it hurt you when you clip your toenails?" he responded.

"Nooo," Charlie said, smiling at his silliness.

"Well, then this is the same. It doesn't hurt him."

After a moment, he asked, "Haven't you ever seen this done before?"

"No."

"What about your horses? The ones you learned to ride on?" he asked.

"They weren't my horses. I mean, they weren't ours. They were horses from the stables of a friend of my

mother's. They used to let me ride there."

"So they had stable hands to do all this? Tend to their feet and all?" Johnny said.

When she nodded, he said, "Well, if you're gonna ride a horse, and have a relationship with them, then this

sort of care is part of the deal. Horses need to be brushed, and have their feet tended to. Their feet can get

real sore if you don't keep the mud and rocks cleaned out."

Charlie was listening to him, looking serious. "And if you don't keep their hooves trimmed, then that can hurt

them, too?" she asked.

"Yeah. Makes it real hard for them to walk." Johnny had finished with that foot, and straightened up, stretching out his

back.

"I never thought about it before," Charlie said, and looked at Johnny with a sorrowful expression. "I feel bad now for

the horses that I rode. I just rode them. I never thought about whether their feet might be hurting."

"If you weren't told by anyone, then there's no way you would have known. I'm tellin' you now," Johnny said, and smiled at her.

"Can I do it?" she asked. "Pick the mud out with that sharp thing?"

"It's called a hoof pick, and yeah, you can try it." He positioned Charlie in front of him, and held the horse's foot

aloft, while he showed her how to pick out the other front foot.

"You don't want to dig very hard, or deep here, around the frog," he warned her. "If you do, it can bruise it."

"Oh," she said, drawing back her hands. "I don't want to hurt him. You do it, Johnny."

"No. You can do it. I'll tell you when you've gone far enough," he encouraged.

Still uncertain, Charlie gave him a nervous look.

"Go on," he said. "You're doin' fine."

She'd finished that hoof, and looked up at Johnny with a sunny smile.

"Was that okay?" she asked him.

"You did great," he said, picking up the hoof pick and file. "You're a born stable hand."

When she followed him to the barn, while he put the tools away, he said, casually, "How would you

feel about havin' your own horse sometime?"

"I'd like it," the child said, not realizing what Johnny was hinting at. "It must be something, to be able

to call a horse your own. And get to be friends with it, like you are with yours."

"Yeah. It's special," Johnny agreed, and made a mental note to talk to Scott about letting Charlie have a horse.

They heard a horse riding up, and Charlie went to look out the door of the barn.

"It's the sheriff," she said, and Johnny heard the discouragement in her voice.

Johnny went to stand beside her, and looked out to greet Val. "Hey, Val."

"Hullo there, Johnny," Val answered, and swung down from his horse, walking over to meet Johnny

halfway.

"Scott around?" Val asked then.

"Somewhere," Johnny said. "He should be back soon. For certain by noontime."

Val took notice of Charlie, standing just behind Johnny.

"Hullo, Just-Charlotte," Val said, with humor, referring to the day that he'd first met her.

At first Charlie didn't answer, but just looked at Val out of those big brown eyes, a trifle accusingly.

Johnny gave her a nudge. "Sheriff said hello," he prompted her.

"I heard," Charlie said shortly.

Johnny gave her a longer look, surprised at her rudeness.

"Hey, now," he said. "Use your manners."

Charlie looked sulky, but she said, quietly, "Hello."

"Come on inside," Johnny invited him. "We can have a drink. Maria's probably got some sponge cake

or somethin'."

"Sounds good," Val said, with regret. "But I need to get back to town. I'll definitely take you up on it soon,

though." He reached into the pocket of his vest, and pulled out a sheet of paper.

"Give this to Scott, will you?" he said, and handed it off to Johnny.

"I will," Johnny said, giving it a brief glance before putting it in his shirt pocket.

"Alright. Be seeing you, then," Val said.

"Right," Johnny said.

Val gave Charlie another quick look. "Goodbye to you too, young lady," he said.

Charlie only nodded at him, and before Johnny could tell her again to mind her manners, Val

chuckled a little, and mounted his horse, waving as he rode off.

Johnny turned to the little girl. "You've no call to be so disrespectful to Val."

"I don't like him," Charlie said flatly.

"Val's a good man. He hasn't been unkind to you, has he?" Johnny asked.

When Charlie just looked at him, he said, more firmly, "Has he?"

"No."

"He's just doin' his job, Charlie," Johnny told her.

Charlie studied him a moment longer, and then said, "Is that a telegram that he gave you?"

"Yeah, it is."

"So she finally answered," Charlie said. Then, to Johnny's shock, she said, "Let's open it. I want to see

what she says."

"What?" Johnny said in surprise, "No, Charlie."

"It's about me," she said. "Why can't I see it?"

"It's addressed to Scott. Nobody's gonna read it before he does," he said.

"I don't see why-" Charlie began, but Johnny leveled a look at her, his blue eyes snapping, and Charlie stopped,

mid-word.

"I think maybe you and I should have us an understandin'," he said. "Firstly, you are not to be rude or

disrespectful like you were just now to Val. If someone speaks to you, says hello, wishes you a good mornin', or

whatever it happens to be, you will answer. And you'll answer politely. Do you understand?"

Charlie's brown eyes widened, and then began to tear up. "Yes."

"And if I tell you no about somethin', then that's the end of it. You don't keep on with it. Clear?" Johnny went on.

Charlie nodded at him. "Sorry," she said, sounding forlorn.

"Alright," Johnny said, and looked at her sad face for another moment. "How about we see if Maria has

some lemonade for us?"

L

The family was near to settling at the kitchen table for lunch, when Scott came in, washing his hands at

the pump at the sink.

"Problems?" Murdoch asked him.

"No. It just took longer than I thought it would," Scott said. "The calves are all present and accounted for."

"Good," Murdoch said.

Scott speared a piece of roast beef and put it onto his plate. He looked over at Charlie, who

was obviously subdued.

"How are you?" he asked her. "Did you have a good morning?"

Charlie nodded.

"Yes," she said.

"Val was by," Johnny said. "Left a telegram for ya. I put it on Murdoch's desk."

"Alright," Scott said, and looked towards Charlie again, wondering if the arrival of the telegram was why the child was so

quiet. He tried a smile out on her, but got no smile in response.

"Something happen that I should know about?" he asked, in a general way, and he didn't miss the way that

Charlie squirmed in her seat, and looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Yeah, actually somethin' did happen," Johnny said, and Scott thought that Charlie turned a little pale.

Johnny looked across the table at Charlie, and he knew that the kid was expecting him to rat her out to Scott,

and tell him about her rudeness and arguing earlier.

"The kid learned how to clean and file a hoof today," Johnny said then. "She did fine, too."

"Yeah?" Scott asked, with interest, looking at his brother and then at Charlie.

"Yeah," Johnny said, and reached for another piece of bread. When he raised his eyes to look at

Charlie again, her smile was bright, and her eyes were shining at him.

L

After supper, Maria claimed Charlie to help with the supper dishes. As everyone began to stand up, finished with

the meal, Maria swooped into the dining room, and handed Charlie a stack of plates.

"Venga ayudarme," she said, without ceremony, and Charlie, even though she didn't understand the

exact Spanish words, knew by Maria's actions what was being required of her.

She shot Scott and Johnny, and Murdoch, too, a beseeching look, and they knew that she wanted to be in the

study when the telegram was read. Johnny shrugged at her, and Scott said, "You can help Maria."

Charlie would have liked to have argued the point, but a look at Maria's back kept her from complaining.

In the study, Murdoch poured the customary drinks of bourbon for the three of them, and Scott went to pick up the

telegram, leaning against the desk to open it.

Murdoch set Scott's drink down on the desk beside where he stood, and then sat down next to Johnny.

They waited while Scott read thru the short wire, and then Scott said, "Hmm," and handed off

the telegram to his father to read.

Murdoch read it, also without comment, though he looked displeased, and then passed it to Johnny. Once done reading, Johnny looked up

at his brother. "What sort of nonsense is this?" he demanded.

Scott shook his head a little, and reached for the drink beside him.

"You're not gonna do it, are you?" Johnny continued.

"No," Scott said. "I'm not."

"Woman is six kinds of crazy," Johnny muttered.

L


	10. A wager on fireflies

"Expectin' the kid to travel home on a train or a stage by herself," Johnny went on, with disgust. "What kind of guardian is she?"

"Not a very capable one," Murdoch agreed.

"Damn useless," Johnny said, and held the telegram out to Scott.

Scott looked at the printed words, rereading over them. "Prior commitments," he read. "Cannot retrieve child. Send by train or stage. Notify

when arriving. Katherine

"Witch," Johnny said. "Not one word of concern about the kid. Nothin'."

"What are your thoughts, son?" Murdoch asked.

"Me?" Johnny asked, pointing to his own chest.

"Not you," Murdoch said dryly. "You've made your thoughts abundantly clear on the situation."

Johnny huffed, and was quiet.

"I'll take her myself," Scott said. "Or I'll wire back to insist she needs to come here to get Charlie."

Murdoch nodded. They were all three in thought when Charlie appeared at the doorway of the study.

Murdoch, seeing her standing there, said kindly, "Come in, sweetheart."

Charlie came into the room, and over to stand next to Scott.

Scott tucked the paper into his shirt pocket. "Did you finish helping Maria?" he asked.

"Yeah," Charlie answered.

"Yes," Scott prompted her.

"Yes," Charlie amended her answer.

Charlie looked at each of the three faces, and then said, in resignation, "Let me guess. She can't come and get me."

Before any of them could respond, she said, "Typical," and shrugged. "Can I read it?"

"It's 'may I read it'," Scott corrected. "Not 'can I', and no, you don't need to read it."

"That bad, huh?" the little girl said, sounding older than her eleven years.

Scott decided that he needed to change the course of the conversation. He put his hand on her waist, and pulled her

closer to him.

"It's not that it's bad," he said. "You just don't need to read it. It's adult business."

Charlie looked up at him, and seemed to calm down a bit. "Okay," she said. "When do I have to go?"

"That's not decided yet," Scott said. "Your Aunt Katherine and I need to exchange a couple more wires."

Charlie brightened at that comment. "Good!" She turned to Murdoch. "That means we can go on some more buggy drives, right,

Murdoch?"

Murdoch made no attempt to hide his smile. "I guess that's what it means," he agreed.

"Yea!" Charlie said, and came over to hug Murdoch.

L

Later, when they'd done their nightly reading of Ivanhoe, and Scott had marked the page for the next night, Charlie didn't

immediately move her cheek from where it was resting on his shoulder. She stayed that way, still.

"I told you she wouldn't come here," she said. "That she'd say she's too busy with her clubs and meetings."

"Charlie," he said.

"Well, she did, right?" Charlie insisted.

"We're done talking about that part of it," Scott said, injecting a note of firmness in his voice.

"Okay. I'm just pointing it out, is all," she said.

Scott turned a bit, so that she had to raise her head from his shoulder. "That's enough," he said, meeting her

eye.

Charlie took heed of the authority in his voice, and subsided.

"We'll get it all worked out," Scott said.

"I hope it takes a long time." She paused, looking thoughtful. "You don't mind, do you? That I'm gonna be

around a little bit longer?" she asked wistfully.

He could tell from her eyes that she was hoping for an answer that wouldn't hurt.

He gathered her close to his side, and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"No. I don't mind. I don't mind at all," he said.

L

After talking with Murdoch, Scott decided that he would take Charlie back to Stockton himself. He would have

preferred to insist that the elusive Aunt Katherine come to Lancer to get Charlie. But after listening to his father's advice,

which consisted of the fact that he was really not in a position to insist, that was the decision.

Murdoch also suggested that it would be more likely that Charlie could visit often, if Scott didn't offend, or as Murdoch put

it, 'rub the aunt the wrong way'.

So he went to send the wire, stating that he would be arriving with Charlie in two days time, and that they

would take a horse-cab to the house. He gave a dollar to the boy who worked at the livery stable to ride out to Lancer the

next day with the reply. If there was one, he thought dryly.

After a few minutes of such thought, he went to send another wire, adding that he would need a reply before he

set out on the way to bring Charlie back to Stockton. There, he thought. That should be plain enough. He hoped

that wouldn't do, as Murdoch said, 'any offense'.

That night, he waited until after supper, and then watched Charlie chase and capture fireflies in a jar. Johnny and

Murdoch sat beside him, as well as Teresa. In the dusk, he heard Murdoch chuckle a bit.

"It's nice," his father said, "Having a child around here."

Scott heard the hint of wistfulness in Murdoch's voice, and he knew, by the side-long glance from Johnny,

that his brother did too.

"I used to do this all the time when I was younger," Teresa said.

"I've got a lot of them!" Charlie called out.

"Bring 'em over here and show us," Johnny called back.

Charlie ran over, her breath coming fast. She held out the lit up jar proudly, and Johnny took it from her, whistling.

"Whoo whee," he approved.

"Thanks for the jar," she told Johnny, bouncing with excitement.

"You're welcome." Johnny turned to Scott. "Can you believe this kid has never caught fireflies before?"

"Hmm," Scott said, and Johnny twisted in his chair to survey Scott more closely.

"You've never done it either," Johnny stated in disbelief. "Have ya?"

Scott shrugged. "Guilty as charged," he said.

"Man, what do kids do for fun in Boston?" Johnny demanded.

"We read," Scott said dryly.

Johnny gave Scott a long look, and then said, "Charlie, run in the kitchen and look for another jar. Maria usually

has some empty ones in the pantry."

Charlie looked from Johnny to Scott and then back to Johnny again. She grinned. "Okay!" she said,

and disappeared into the house.

"Forget it," Scott warned.

"Aw, now, you haven't really lived until you've filled a jar with bug butts that light up," Johnny said.

"You can use the jar yourself," Scott told him. "Go on and show Charlie how it's really supposed to be done."

Johnny got to his feet, and grinned. "Oh, you'll do it," he predicted.

Scott was aiming a look at his brother that was intended to intimidate, when Charlie came back out,

carrying another empty jar. "Here you go," she said, handing it to Johnny, and taking her own lit-up jar

back again.

"Come on, Scott," Johnny said, holding out the empty jar.

"No."

"Please, Scott?" Charlie said.

"Yeah, Scott," Johnny chimed in, being purposely obnoxious. "Please?"

"You know what, Johnny? You're rapidly passing from thorn in my side, and progressing to pain in my-" Scott began.

"Ah, ah, ah," Johnny said, shaking a finger at Scott. "Language, language. There are children and

ladies present."

"That's right," Teresa spoke up, giggling.

"Go on, son," Murdoch urged.

Scott looked from his father, to his brother's laughing face, to Charlie's hopeful expression.

"Alright," he said, and got to his feet. "It's good that there's not a third jar," he said slowly, needling

Johnny.

"Why is that good?" Johnny demanded.

"Well, I imagine that I'm going to be a champion bug-butt light finder. I'd even be prepared to make

a wager on it. But you wouldn't want to do that. I mean, it'd be real embarrassing for you, and all, when

you only caught three to my thirty."

"You're on," Johnny said, and headed to the kitchen to look for that third jar.

"Let's get busy," Scott told Charlie. "You want to loan me some of yours?"

L

That night, when the wager had been won, and the fireflies were released back into freedom from their jar-prisons,

Scott sent Charlie upstairs to wash up, and get ready for bed. He went up a short while later, finding the door

to the guest bedroom already open.

Charlie was sitting up on the bed, cross-legged. "Let's read," she greeted him, eagerly.

"Did you wash your hands and face?" he asked her.

"Yes. And I brushed my teeth, too." She settled in her usual spot next to him after he'd sat down.

"Look," she said, leaning forward a little. "We're nearly halfway thru the book already."

"We are, aren't we?"

Scott opened the book, and read for fifteen to twenty minutes, and then stopped at the end of a chapter, marking it

with the bookmark, and closing the book.

"I sent a wire to your aunt, and I told her that I'd be bringing you home the day after tomorrow," he said.

Charlie looked at him, somber and silent.

"You can show me your house, and your bedroom, and all of that," he said.

"Okay," Charlie said, in a small voice, looking forlorn.

Scott was at a loss, for a few moments, of just what he should say.

Charlie hooked her arm thru his, and laid her cheek on his shoulder. "I liked being here," she said softly.

"You'll be back. Lots of visits, remember?"

L

The next morning, when he checked in Charlie's bedroom, he found she was already out and about again.

"Six-thirty in the morning," he said to himself, as he headed down the stairs.

"Talkin' to yourself, brother?" Johnny said, coming up behind him so quietly that Scott jumped.

"Damn, Johnny," he said, startled.

Johnny laughed, and gave Scott a jab in the ribs. "You were, ya know. Talkin' to yourself."

"I was just wondering where Charlie's gotten to so early."

"Probably out with those kittens again," Johnny predicted.

"I'm taking her to Stockton tomorrow," Scott said.

For a long, long few moments, Johnny didn't say anything. He finally met Scott's eye, and nodded, looking

as somber as Charlie had the evening before.

Maria reported that Charlie had already eaten her breakfast, and gone outside. He talked with Murdoch and

Johnny about what work needed done that day.

"I can finish the fence myself, or have one of the hands help me," Johnny was saying.

"I'm supposed to help you with that," Scott reminded him.

"I know. I thought you might want to spend the day with Charlie," Johnny said, and Scott gave his

brother a look of appreciation.

"Thanks. But I'll help you. Maybe she'll want to come along," Scott said.

When he went out to the barn a few minutes later, he looked around for Charlie, but didn't see her.

Checking the last corner stall, he said, "Charlie?"

"I'm up here," she said, and he looked up towards the barn loft, where she was lying on her stomach,

peering down at him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Playing with the kittens."

"I've got some work to do, and I'm getting ready to head out with Johnny for awhile," he told her.

"Alright."

"What are you going to do this morning? You can come with us if you want to."

Even looking up, he could see the look of regret on her face.

"I sort of promised Maria that I'd help her make some cookies and things. She said we could take them

on our trip tomorrow, on the stage."

"That's alright then," he said.

"Will you be back by lunchtime?" she asked.

"We should be. I'll see you then, alright?"

"Alright," she said, and her face disappeared away from the hole up above.

L

They did make it back to the house in time for lunch, and found several varieties of cookies

prepared by Maria, with Teresa and Charlie's assistance.

"Mmm," Johnny said, washing his hands at the kitchen pump, and then investigating the array of baked goods.

"Which ones can I sample?" he asked.

"None of them," Teresa said, and gave him a poke in the ribs.

"Oh now, come on," Johnny protested.

"Que tenga dos galletas," Maria told him, and Johnny gave Teresa a smirk, taking two of the largest

cookies that he could find.

"These are the best," Charlie told him, pointing to another cookie, and Johnny turned appealing eyes on

Maria.

"Tres?" he asked. "Por favor?"

"Ir de nino mimado," Maria replied, giving Johnny an affectionate smack on his hip.

Maria sent them all to the dining room, where the table was already set for the luncheon meal.

During the meal, Charlie was quiet, speaking mostly only when spoken to, and Scott found that he didn't

have much to say either.

"How about a ride this afternoon?" he asked Charlie, as they were all pushing in their chairs after finishing

the meal.

"That would be nice," she said, with a somewhat sad smile.

"Alright," Scott said.

After Charlie had followed Teresa to the kitchen, carrying plates, Murdoch paused beside Scott.

"Tough day," he observed.

"Yes, sir."

Teresa reappeared behind them. "I have an idea. We can all go riding together, and have a picnic supper, maybe

at the creek. What do you think?" she asked, looking at Scott and Murdoch.

"Sounds fine to me," Murdoch said, and Scott nodded.

"We'll pack up some food," Teresa said, and left them again.

"Everybody around here is going to miss that child," Murdoch said softly.

"Yes," Scott said in agreement.

So it was the five of them that went on the afternoon ride. After they'd ridden for a while, and various spots

on Lancer had been pointed out to Charlie, they ended up at the creek. With no rain lately, it was low, and

Teresa swung down from her horse.

"I'm going wading," she announced. "And then I'll get the food out. Johnny, can you get the blanket spread out?"

When Johnny went to do that, Teresa called after him, "And stay out of those cookies!"

"Bossy boots," Johnny muttered, and Murdoch chuckled.

Charlie took off her socks and boots, and rolled up the legs on her pants. She went a little ways further down, but, instead

of wading as Teresa was, she sat down on the edge of the creek bank, dangling her feet in the water.

Johnny saw that his father and brother were settled near to Teresa, talking, and he went the bit further, to where

Charlie sat.

"Can I sit?" he asked her, gesturing to the spot beside her.

"Sure," Charlie said, without looking up from her gaze on the water.

Johnny sat down, and bent one knee up to his chest, wrapping an arm around his leg.

For a few minutes, there was silence, neither one of them speaking.

"I was thinkin'," he began, "that it might be a good idea for you to have your own horse to ride at Lancer."

Charlie looked up into his tanned face. "Do you mean it, Johnny?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah. I mean it. We'll start lookin' around a little bit, tryin' to find the right one for ya."

"I never thought I'd ever have my own horse," she said, showing him her first smile of the day.

"Well, remember what I told ya. It's not just about the fun part of it. They need a lot of care. It's a big

responsibility."

"I'll remember," she promised.

"Alright," he said, and then picked a blade of grass, working it until he could whistle thru it.

Charlie was watching him. "How do you do that?" she asked him, and so he took another blade of grass

and showed her how to do it, and she raised the blade to her mouth, looking amazed when a slight whistle

came out.

"That's funny," she said.

After another few moments of silence, Charlie spoke up, softly. "I don't wanna go back to Stockton, Johnny."

"I know."

She sighed heavily, and he added, "The sooner you go, though, then the sooner you can come back for a visit."

Teresa began calling to them, telling them to come and eat lunch. Instead of moving, though, Charlie sat where

she was. Johnny waited too, aware that the little girl had something on her mind to say.

"Maybe I'll get to visit," Charlie said.

"No maybe about it. Scott will see to it," Johnny said firmly.

"I know I'm just gonna be there for a little while, and I'll feel like leaving again," Charlie said. "Scott said

I'm not to take off anymore, though. He said it's not fair to my aunt."

"You can stick it out," Johnny said.

"I don't know. It seems to get harder. I feel so-alone there."

"You may have been alone before, but now you have us," he said stoutly.

Teresa called to them again, and Johnny waved to her.

"Be there in a minute!" he hollered.

"Scott said if I do it again, take off like I did, that he'll spank me," Charlie said, looking at Johnny's

tanned profile.

Johnny picked up a handful of pebbles to toss into the creek water. When he was quiet,

Charlie said, "Do you think he really meant it?"

"Do you think he meant it?" Johnny countered, tossing a rock.

Charlie looked thoughtful, and then resigned. "Yeah, I think he did."

"I've always known Scott to be a man of his word," Johnny said. "So if I were you, I'd listen to him."

He got to his feet, dusting the dirt off of his hands, and pulled Charlie up, too.

"Let's get over there," he said. "I don't want Scott to eat all the fried chicken."

L


	11. Art critic

That night, before Charlie went to bed, Scott read from Ivanhoe longer than he usually did. He read thru two full chapters before

he put the bookmark in.

"I won't know what happens next," Charlie said, sounding weepy.

"Yes, you will. We'll read more the first time you come to visit," he said.

Then, a thought occurred to him. "We could take it on the stage tomorrow. If we have any times when we're just waiting,

we could read then."

"Okay."

Charlie moved closer to Scott's side, though she was nearly as tightly against him already as she could be.

"What did the telegram say, the one that came today?" she asked.

"It said that she'll be expecting to see you tomorrow."

"Oh."

"It's getting late. Get under your blanket," Scott said, and when Charlie had settled herself, he

tucked the quilt up around her.

"Johnny said he's going to look 'round for a horse for me," Charlie said.

"Yes. He told me."

"He said he'll keep a good eye on the kittens, too," she added. "And Jelly said he'd check on them everyday."

"They'll be well taken care of then," Scott said.

"Johnny says that Jelly's what some people would call a 'character'," Charlie said.

Scott smiled. "I'd say that's true." He tucked the blanket again. "You need to get to sleep."

"Will you sit in here with me, until I go to sleep?" she asked.

"Alright. But no more talking."

Long after Charlie had drifted off to sleep, Scott still sat there, in the darkened room, thinking.

L

Maria prepared an extra large breakfast the next morning. Along with the usual fare of eggs and sausages, there

were biscuits with spicy gravy, and her Spanish sugary churros. Charlie ate a smaller amount than usual, even

though prompted by Maria to eat more.

Charlie was dressed, reluctantly, in her new blue dress, and her stockings and dressy shoes. Beyond a small-voiced

thank you when told by Murdoch and Johnny that she looked nice, she was quiet over the meal.

After breakfast, Charlie went upstairs to get her clothes, packed in a traveling bag that Teresa had given to her.

She came back down to find Johnny waiting at the foot of the stairs, a grin on his face.

"I've got somethin' for you, pequeno," he told her.

"What?" she asked.

Johnny brought a package, wrapped in bright paper, from behind his back. Charlie looked up at him.

"A present?" she asked. "How come?"

"Doesn't have to be a special reason, does there?" he countered. "If I want to get ya somethin' for a 'just because',

then I can."

Charlie smiled at him a little, and opened the package right there. Inside was a cowboy hat, in a fawn brown color.

Her face lit up, Charlie reached up to hug him. "Thank you, Johnny, I really like it!"

"You're gonna need it when you come for a visit, and we go ridin'," he reminded her.

"I won't forget," she said, and clutched the hat to her chest.

Scott, who had been listening, and waiting, said, "Ready?" to the little girl.

"I guess," she said, and Johnny picked up her bag, while they walked outside.

"Espere un momento," Maria called, and came outside, carrying a package wrapped in brown paper. "Las cookies."

She handed the package off to Scott, and took Charlie's shoulders in her hands.

"Be good, and be safe, hmm?" she said.

"Yes, ma'm," Charlie answered, and Maria gave her a quick hug, and then went back into the

house.

"Bye, Teresa," Charlie said.

"Bye, Charlie," Teresa said, with a smile.

Next Charlie came to Murdoch, who was standing beside Teresa.

She looked up at Murdoch, and he gathered her into a silent hug. He gave her back a couple of encouraging pats.

"We'll see you soon," he said.

Charlie nodded, and then gave a quick look around. "I wonder where Jelly is."

"That would be hard to say," Murdoch answered.

"Will you tell him I said goodbye?" Charlie asked.

"I will do that," Murdoch said.

Charlie nodded in reply, and then Scott lifted her up into the wagon, and climbed up to sit next to her, while

Johnny climbed up and took up the reins to drive. The drive to town was mostly quiet. Even Johnny didn't attempt

conversation.

Once in town, and after waiting for a short time, when someone called out, "Stage is comin'!", Scott picked

up the bag of Charlie's things, and his own. The sound of the approaching stage could be heard easily.

Johnny bent down, eye-level with Charlie.

"How about showin' me how you look in that hat?" he asked her, pointing to the hat that Charlie was

still holding tight to.

"It won't look right with this dumb dress," Charlie told him.

"Show me, anyway," Johnny coaxed.

Once she'd put the hat on, Johnny grinned at her. "You're gonna look fine, ridin' your own horse, with that hat on."

"Maybe you should keep it for me," Charlie said suddenly. "Until I come to visit."

"Naw, you take it with ya," he said. "Just don't forget to bring it back when you come."

"I won't forget," she said.

The stage was rolling in, and stopping, and passengers began to climb out.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," Scott said to Johnny.

"I'll come in and meet the stage when you get back," Johnny said. He turned to Charlie, and put a hand on

the side of her face. "Be good, pequeno," he said.

"Bye," Charlie said, and Scott handed her up into the waiting stagecoach.

L

There were four other passengers riding to Stockton in the stagecoach. Charlie was settled in the middle, between Scott,

and another man, while seated across from them were a couple, and a younger man.

For a time there was minimal conversation, and then the woman across from them began to make

an attempt to draw everyone into conversation.

"Going to Stockton?" she inquired of the man sitting beside Charlie.

"That's right."

"And you?" she asked of Scott.

"We're going to Stockton, as well," Scott said.

"We're going to visit our son and his wife," the woman chattered on, and Scott nodded in polite acknowledgement.

The woman continued to study Scott and Charlie with intenseness, and Scott knew, or rather felt, that she was

attempting to discern what relationship he and Charlie had. He was young to be her father, and he could imagine the woman

was trying to determine if he was an older brother, or an uncle. It amused him to see the intentness of her thoughts crossing

her face. The younger man seated next to the woman refused to pass the time with small-talk. He was close-mouthed, and

rough-appearing. Scott didn't like his look. There was something about him that made Scott feel uneasy.

After some time had passed, Scott asked Charlie if she wanted to open the package of Maria's cookies.

"No, thank you," Charlie said.

Scott thought she looked a little pale, though her forehead had beads of sweat.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked her.

Charlie nodded. "Just hot." She clutched her hat from Johnny tighter. After a bit longer, Charlie laid her

cheek against his arm, and stayed that way the rest of the way to Stockton.

Once there, the stagecoach was pulled to a jarring stop, and after the couple had exited, Scott got out, and

swung Charlie down. He took the two bags tossed down from the driver, and led Charlie across the street, to one of

the restaurants.

"I thought we'd get some lunch," he said.

Charlie shrugged in answer, and looked as though she didn't particularly care about lunch, but Scott went with his instincts and

led her on into the busy restaurant.

Once they'd been seated at an available table, and the waitress came to take their order, Scott asked about the

lunch specials, and once recited by the woman, he looked at Charlie. "That sound alright to you?" he asked.

Charlie shrugged again. "I guess," she said, without enthusiasm.

Scott ordered two of the lunch specials, and coffee for himself, milk for Charlie.

L

Scott watched her as they waited for their food, and she ran her fingers back and forth over the tablecloth, silent

and unhappy looking. Scott knew that he couldn't expect her to be overjoyed, or happy at all about coming back to

the aunt that she felt so distant about. But still, it troubled him to see her like this.

"What time did you tell Katherine we'd be here?" she asked suddenly, and he blinked in surprise, at

the lack of the customary word of 'Aunt', before the name of Katherine.

"I didn't give a time," he said. "I told her we'd just come to the house by horse-cab."

"She won't be there anyway," Charlie said, and they were interrupted by the arrival of their food.

After the plates had been set in front of them, along with the milk, and Scott's steaming cup of coffee, Scott

asked, in a low voice, "Why do you say that? That she won't be there?"

Charlie shrugged. "She just won't," she said, sounding petulant.

Scott felt the first stirrings of irritation, but he prompted himself to have patience.

"Maybe she will be. She might surprise you," he said.

"It doesn't matter if she isn't," Charlie said then.

When Scott looked at her puzzled, Charlie said, "I'm used to staying by myself."

Scott could have said a lot of things right at that moment. All he did say though was, "Eat your lunch."

Charlie poked at her meal, making a mound out of her mashed potatoes, and lining her green beans up in

a short row on her plate. Finally, Scott said, "Charlie," in a brisk tone.

When she looked up at him, appearing startled, he said, "Stop pushing your food around and eat some of it."

Charlie met his gaze, but he won the stare-down, because she looked away, and down, and began to eat.

And she did eat, though it wasn't nearly everything, but Scott just said, "Are you finished?"

When Charlie nodded, Scott paid for their meal, and they went outside into the sunshine, with him carrying both

bags, while Charlie carried her hat.

Scott waved down a hansom cab, and once he'd given the directions that Charlie had recited to him earlier, they

were on their way to the mysterious house of Aunt Katherine.

"Are you staying overnight?" Charlie asked.

"I want to talk to your aunt for a bit, and so I thought I would," Scott said.

"Where at?" she asked.

"The Regal Hotel, probably. I've stayed there before."

"Maybe you could stay at Katherine's house. There's plenty of room," she suggested, looking at him

hopefully.

"No, Charlie," Scott said.

When she looked at him questioningly, he said, "Your aunt doesn't even know me. It would be awkward. It wouldn't be the

right thing."

"Oh," she said.

"That's the second time I've heard you say Katherine, referring to your aunt," he said.

Charlie looked at him, and wrinkled up her forehead. "That's her name," she said, and Scott wondered if he should

scold her.

"You should say Aunt Katherine," he told her.

When she just looked at him, not saying anything, he added, "What do you call her when you're talking directly to her?"

"Katherine," Charlie said.

"Well, that's not very respectful," Scott said.

"Why?"

"When you're talking to an older adult, you shouldn't call address them by their first name," he explained.

"What about you?" she asked then.

"What about me?"

"I call you Scott. And Johnny, Johnny. And Murdoch, Murdoch. Why is that alright?" she asked.

For a moment, Scott was stumped for an answer. She had a point.

"That's a little different situation," he said. "We met not too awfully long ago, and, well, it's just

different."

"Murdoch's your father, though," Charlie went on. "And you call him by his first name."

There was, Scott reflected, nothing unintelligent about this child.

"I do," he agreed. "We met not too long ago, ourselves, Murdoch and I. It's a bit different for you, and

your aunt. You're a child. I wouldn't have called Murdoch by his first name if I'd been around him as

a child."

Charlie looked as though she was considering what he said, and Scott decided to let the topic drop. It didn't appear to him as

though he was winning this particular conflict.

L

Once they'd arrived at the address of the house, Scott had to admit to himself that he was a bit

surprised. Even knowing that Charlie was from a wealthy family, it was startling to see the immense size

of the house. He thought back to the day he'd first brought Charlie to Lancer and how she'd remarked on

the size of their home.

"Larger than our home," he said, as they dismounted from the carriage.

"I guess so," Charlie said. "Your house seems bigger, though."

"How so?"

"I don't know. This house is so-empty, I guess," Charlie said, and Scott had to steel himself not to show

emotion at her words, though he didn't really understand what she was getting at.

He paid the cab driver, and as it rolled down the street, Charlie sighed. Scott didn't think she even

realized that she had.

She went up the front stairs and knocked on the door. "I don't have my key," she said in explanation to Scott.

The door opened after a few moments, and a maid, in a starched white uniform stood there.

"Miss Charlotte," she said, in greeting, not appearing to be surprised to see Charlie standing there, on the front steps.

"Hello, Abby," Charlie said.

Once inside the house, Abby turned to Scott. "Your hat, sir?"

Scott handed her the hat he'd taken off as he entered the house, and the maid said, "Mrs. Burch isn't at home as of yet. Would you

like some tea while you wait? Or something else?"

Charlie looked up at Scott in question, and Scott, who would have sold three acres of Lancer for a dollar at that particular moment, just to'

have a cup of strong coffee, said simply, "No, thank you."

The maid looked to the bags that Scott held, one in each hand. "May I take your bags?"

Scott set his bag beside the door. "This is mine. I'll set it here for right now. Thank you."

"Is that yours, Miss Charlotte?" Abby asked, gesturing the bag that Scott held in his other hand.

"Yes."

"I'll take it for you," Abby said, and Scott handed it off to the maid.

"If you require anything else, just ring," she said, and gave a polite nod as she walked away, and up stairs to the right of the

entryway.

Charlie looked up at Scott, as they stood there together, just the two of them.

She gave a shrug. "Want me to show you around?" she offered.

"Sure, if you want to," he said.

For the next few minutes, Charlie showed him the dining room, a huge and formal looking room, and then took him upstairs to

show him her bedroom. It was not what a little girl's room should look like, Scott thought. Even in his own childhood home with his

grandfather, he'd had some things in his bedroom, that helped to make it seem like his own. Some wooden soldier toys, and a stuffed bear

that had belonged to his mother when she was a child. Scott hadn't played with the bear overmuch, mostly because he didn't want it to

get stained or become torn. But he remembered holding the bear tightly as he went to sleep.

In Charlie's room, however, there was the bed, and a dressing table, and an armoire. No dolls or teddy bears in sight.

"Where are your toys?" Scott asked her, as he stepped further into the room.

"I have some games," Charlie said, opening the armoire to show neatly stacked children's games and an array of frilly looking

dresses. "And some books," she said.

Scott walked over to look at the few books.

"They're babyish books," Charlie said. "I'd like some different ones, like Ivanhoe. But Katherine thinks I need to read these. I tell

her I've read them all a hundred times over, but she says to just read them again."

Scott turned and looked at her. "But no toys?" he asked again. "No dolls?"

"I don't like dolls," Charlie said.

"Not at all?" Scott asked her, with a slight smile.

Charlie shook her head at him. "I read mostly. There's nobody to play games with, really. Sometimes Pauline used to play with

me."

At Scott's questioning look, Charlie said, in explanation, "Pauline used to be our cook. She was really nice, and she used to let

me help her sometimes. She's from France."

"And she's the cook here still? Or no?" he asked.

"No. She got fed up with Katherine's nonsense," Charlie said, obviously repeating what she'd heard an adult say. "The cook we have

now isn't so nice. She doesn't like anybody coming into the kitchen."

"Hmmm," Scott said in answer.

When Charlie stood there, Scott knew she was waiting for him to take the lead, and that she was unsure of what to suggest.

"How about we go back downstairs, to the parlor or wherever your aunt has guests wait at," he suggested. "We can wait

for her there."

When they got downstairs, Charlie led him to a room that was, in Scott's opinion, overly-decorated, though he did recognize

several art works hanging that were worth quite a sum of money.

Charlie saw him looking at the pictures, and came to stand beside him. "That one is supposed to be worth a lot of money," she

said, sounding skeptical.

"It is," Scott said. "It's by a very famous artist. John Quidor."

"You know what I think?" Charlie asked.

"What do you think?" he asked, looking at her with a smile.

"I think it's an ugly picture. I like the one in Murdoch's study better. You know, the one that he painted of the boat out on the blue water?"

"I like that picture, too," Scott said.

"But people that think they know about art, they would say that Murdoch's picture isn't as good as this one," Charlie said,

pointing to the picture on the wall above her.

When Scott didn't say anything, she prompted him, "Isn't that right?"

"They might," Scott said, in agreement. "But everybody should be able to decide what they like, including what pictures they

prefer."

"Well, I prefer Murdoch's," Charlie said, sounding decisive.

"So do I," Scott agreed, though he thought privately that he'd never share that opinion with his grandfather.

Scott went to sit on an somewhat uncomfortable sofa. Charlie stood where she was for a couple of moments. She looked, Scott thought, uncomfortable,

and almost as if she felt shy with him.

"What is it, Charlie?" he asked her quietly.

Charlie shrugged. "I don't know," she said, very low.

"I think you do," Scott said. Then he said, kindly, "Come over here and sit with me."

Charlie came to sit down next to him. Scott put his arm around her shoulders, and gently lifted a strand of her hair. He waited,

not saying anything, not rushing her.

"This house isn't like yours," she said.

When Scott was silent, she said, "Lancer has a warm feeling. Even when I walked in with you that first day, it was

all warm, and welcoming."

"Because of the way that Murdoch and everyone greeted you?" he asked.

"Well, that part was nice," she said, smiling at the memory. "Really nice. But it was the house that was friendly, too. I

guess it sounds silly, but your house is-someplace people would want to be. This house isn't."

"Is this the house you grew up in?" Scott asked.

"No. Katherine didn't want to stay there. When she got to be my guardian, she said she wanted a house that

hadn't belonged to my mother. So she picked this house. I wish we could have stayed at my old house. Even though it

was big, and all, it was like a home. It was-friendly."

Scott felt his heart squeeze, in sympathy and sadness. He pulled her tighter to his side.

Suddenly, Charlie looked up at him, her expression worried.

"What if she's late getting here? Sometimes she doesn't come home until late in the afternoon from her

meetings-" she began.

"I'll wait," Scott said calmly, knowing what she was getting at.

"What if it's almost dinnertime, though?" Charlie continued.

"It's alright. We'll sit here and read Ivanhoe, and wait for her," he said.

"We could read, couldn't we?" Charlie said, brightening somewhat.

And so, as some time had passed, that's what they were doing. Sitting together on the sofa. Reading the copy of Ivanhoe that Scott had

tucked into his bag.

When there was the opening and closing of the heavy front door sometime later, and a woman's voice calling sharply for

the maid, Charlie gave Scott a shrug. "Get ready for the show to begin," she said. "Katherine's here."

L


	12. Society laugh

The maid was seen hurrying past, and then reappeared, carrying a stack of papers, off to another part of the house.

And then the sharply-speaking woman swept into the parlor.

"Well, hello," she said, and came towards Scott as he got to his feet. "I'm Katherine Burch. You must be-Seth?"

"It's Scott, ma'm."

"Yes, of course," the woman said, waving a hand. "Scott Lancer. I'm just hopeless at remembering names."

She was a good-looking woman, Scott had to admit that. She was tall, for a woman, and her hair was a deep brown. Her

clothing was expensive, he knew that. He hadn't lived in Boston and been around women there for all those years without

learning a thing or two about women's fashions. Katherine was surveying him with interest, though a socially acceptable

interest. No blatant staring.

She put out her hand to Scott, and they shook hands. "Have you been waiting long?" she asked then. Then, without waiting for

an answer, she went on, "It's so difficult to get away from my charity meetings. You understand," she said, in a voice that

plainly said that she knew that he would, indeed, be understanding.

Scott nodded, in what he hoped was a polite way. He didn't understand. Not at all. When her niece was arriving home,

he felt that her place should have been here at the home.

"You didn't feel that you had to wait with Charlotte, did you?" she asked then.

"I wanted to wait with her," Scott said simply. "I wanted to meet you, as well."

"I see," Katherine said, her eyes taking him in. "Did the maid offer you refreshments?" she asked then, releasing Scott's hand.

"She did," Scott affirmed.

He waited, but there was no greeting between Katherine or Charlie. He cast a glance down at Charlie, and saw that she

had a mutinous expression on her face, and had not moved from her seat on the sofa. She was still holding the book of Ivanhoe.

When the moments passed by without either of them acknowledging the other one, Scott thought it was bordering on ridiculousness, and

finally Katherine spoke, "Well, Charlotte, you're back home again."

"Did you notice I was gone?" Charlie asked, giving the woman a challenging gaze.

Scott was appalled, both at the interaction between them, or lack of it, and the way that Charlie had responded.

There was a tinkling laugh from Katherine, a society laugh, as Scott thought of it. False.

"Oh, I noticed," she said. "You did a better job of it this time."

"Not good enough," Charlie said darkly.

Scott couldn't help it, he had to react. "Charlie," he said, low and quiet. Charlie looked up at him, and he raised an

eyebrow at her. Charlie flushed a little and looked away again.

"This child," Katherine looked to Scott, "I swear that she delights in making my life uncomfortable." Again, with the tinkling

laugh.

When Scott didn't respond to that, she added, "I'm sure she caused you a bit of trouble, as well?"

Without looking at her, Scott knew that Charlie's gaze would be on him, waiting to hear what he said about her.

"Charlie was no trouble," he said, with certainty. "My family and I enjoyed having her stay with us."

Katherine looked surprised for a moment, and then recovered. "Well, isn't that nice," she said. "And she insists on that horrible

nickname. I tell her that I absolutely will not call her that. Charlie is a boy's name."

She sat down in a chair nearby, and waved Scott back to his seating position. "Sit down, Mr. Lancer."

She rang a silver bell on the table next to the chair, and the maid, Abby, appeared within moments, as Scott took his seat.

"I'd like a cup of tea, Abby," she said, and then looked to Scott. "Would you care for something?"

"A cup of coffee would be welcome," Scott said, putting his arm around the back of the couch again, his hand lightly brushing

Charlie's hair.

"Black? Or with sugars?" she asked. "Or cream?"

"Just black is fine," Scott said.

"My tea, Abby, and a cup of black coffee for Mr. Lancer," Katherine said, and the maid nodded, and hustled away.

"You live near to-Green Valley, is it?" Katherine inquired.

"Green River," Scott corrected.

"Green River. And what is it you do there?"

"I have a ranch. With my father and my brother," Scott said.

"How interesting. You raise cattle?"

"We do," Scott said.

"I'm sure that's an interesting sort of life," Katherine said. "Very rustic and earthy."

"We like it," Scott said mildly, well aware of what she was implying.

Katherine gave Scott a scrutinizing look, and Scott knew that she was trying to determine if he was a dirt-poor

rancher, or someone of means. He decided to let her ponder that.

"Will you be staying to dinner with us, Mr. Lancer?" Katherine inquired of him, as the maid brought the tea and coffee.

Scott, who hadn't planned on doing anything of the sort, was stopped short of politely declining, by Charlie's

voice, with her sitting up straight and looking at him. "Will you? Please, Scott?"

Her voice was pleading, but her eyes were desperate, and Scott found himself nodding while he looked

into those brown eyes. Then he turned to Katherine. "If you're certain it's alright, then yes, I will. Thank you."

"I regret that after we have our dinner, I'll need to be on my way again. I've plans for the evening," Katherine said.

Scott had to set his mind to keeping his mouth shut. When what he wanted to do was to ask the woman what

in the world she was thinking, leaving a little girl all alone when she'd just been returned home.

He decided if he couldn't say just what he thought, he could make certain she understand something else.

"I see," he said. "Well, I would like to talk with you for a bit, so if you could make time for that, I'd appreciate it."

His tone was cordial, but also with a sense of decisiveness, and he could tell that Katherine was aware of that by the

way that she surveyed him.

"Well, of course," she said. She got to her feet, and Scott stood up as well. "I'll go and let the cook know that we're to

have a guest for dinner. Excuse me a few moments."

She left the room, and Charlie sighed. It was plainly a sigh of relief.

"That's Katherine," she said. "She's one of those 'characters' that Johnny was talking about, I think."

Scott sat back against the couch again, looking at the little girl, and wondering if he should scold her. He was, himself,

by no means impressed with the infamous Aunt Katherine, though he was trying to keep his mind open, and not be judgemental.

"When you talk to her, is that when you're going to tell her that I get to come and visit you?" Charlie asked him.

"I'm not going to tell her, Charlie. I'm going to ask her," Scott corrected.

"Alright. Ask her. Is that what you're going to talk about?" Charlie asked.

"That's part of it," Scott said.

"What else?" she asked, sounding curious.

Scott gave Charlie a steady look. "You know how I told you the other day, that some things are adult business? Well,

my conversation with your aunt is one of those things."

"Oh," Charlie said, and subsided somewhat.

In a few minutes, Katherine was back, and Scott stood up again as she entered the room.

"Dinner will be ready very soon. Would this be a satisfactory time for us to have that conversation, Mr. Lancer?"

"That's fine," Scott said.

"Alright," she said, and sat back onto the edge of the chair that she'd vacated a few minutes earlier. She folded her hands

and waited, looking at Scott.

Scott turned to Charlie, as he sat back down as well. "Charlie, you need to excuse yourself," he told her.

"Okay," Charlie said, and got up obediently. "Excuse me, I'm going to change my clothes," she said, and made her way

to the door.

"You may put on another dress," Katherine called after her. There was no answering reply from Charlie, and Katherine

sighed heavily. "She'll come back down in the most God-awful clothing, I'm sure." Then she said, "I must admit that

I'm curious about something. Charlotte would normally refuse to leave a room that way, especially if she thought

that the upcoming conversation was going to be about herself. How in the world did you manage to get her to do that?"

For a moment, Scott was struck speechless. The woman couldn't be serious. Could she? But yes, it appeared that she

was indeed serious in her question.

"As a child, being directed to do something by an adult, that's fairly standard behavior, I believe," Scott said.

"Perhaps for you," she said, with that tinkly laugh. "Charlotte doesn't listen to much of anything that I have to say, I'm afraid."

Scott wondered how direct he should be, in his own opinions.

"Charlie's a wonderful little girl," Scott said, slowly, choosing his words. "My family and I really enjoyed having her

stay with us."

"How is it that the two of you met?" Katherine asked.

"She was on the train, coming thru Green River, and she got into a bit of trouble, and that's where she got off the train at. I happened

to be nearby," Scott explained.

"Well, it was very kind of you to take her in the way that you did. She's a puzzlement to me, I'm afraid. I've never seen a child

so determined to live outside the lines of society," she said.

Scott waited for her to ask what sort of 'trouble' it was that Charlie had gotten into, but she didn't. She merely smiled at him,

and waited for him to continue talking.

"She was accused of stealing a man's wallet," Scott said.

"I'm not surprised by that," Katherine said.

Scott felt his ire begin to rise. "She hadn't. Stolen anything, I mean," he clarified.

"Well. That's certainly good to hear," Katherine said.

"Charlie says that she's done this before. Left your home for a period of time, ran away."

"That is the truth, unfortunate as it may be," Katherine said.

"Why do you think that is?" Scott asked.

"Excuse me?" Katherine asked.

"Why do you believe that she does that? Runs away?" Scott asked.

"I'm sure that I don't know," Katherine said, sniffing. "The child has everything that she could possibly want at

her fingertips. She lacks for nothing."

Scott picked up his coffee from the table before him, closing his hands around the long-cold cup. He wanted to say so

many things, as in what Charlie was lacking was attention, nurturing, direction, discipline. But he didn't trust himself

to say it all at that point. He decided to go with the easier portion of the conversation.

"As I said, my family all became very fond of Charlie," Scott said. "We'd like her to come to Lancer, for visits

occasionally. If that's alright with you?"

"Well, of course," Katherine said, and Scott saw the look of relief on her face before she masked it. "That would

be fine. I'm certain she'd enjoy it."

So Charlie had been right, Scott thought wryly. Her aunt would be glad to get her "out of her hair".

"In two weeks would be an appropriate time for a visit," Katherine went on. "I'll have some friends staying here

with me, and Charlotte would find it all very dull, and be at loose ends, I'm sure. Would that time work for you?"

Scott, who hadn't expected it to be quite so easy, said, "That'll be fine. Our schedule's flexible."

"Well, it's all settled then," Katherine said, looking satisfied. "I'll send you a wire when Charlotte will be arriving in

Green River."

"I don't think that it's the best idea for her to travel alone," Scott said, trying to be tactful. "There's so many things

that could happen."

Katherine looked at him, a bright spot of color on each of her cheeks. "She's very resourceful. And independent," she defended.

"Yes, ma'm, she is resourceful," Scott said, in apparent agreement. "And independent. But she's also just a little girl. There

can sometimes be some rough people on the stage rides. And the trains."

"My schedule doesn't always allow me to disregard my committee meetings," Katherine said. "I couldn't be assured that

it would be convenient for me to travel to Green River-"

"If you send a wire, I'll come and accompany Charlie back to our home. Or if I couldn't, my father will," Scott said.

"Alright," Katherine said, and looked relieved again. "That would be fine."

And, on that note, the conversation was ended. Scott thought that there was so much that he wanted to ask, and to

suggest, but he decided to bide his time. Maybe, when he'd talked it over with Murdoch, he'd know more what he could have, or should

have said, and follow that the next time that he had a conversation with the woman across from him.

Katherine stood up, and Scott did as well. "Shall we go into dinner?" she said.

L

There was absolutely nothing wrong with the food that was served by yet another maid, this one older, but dressed in the

same sort of starched white uniform. It was a meal of fine food, rich food, the sort of food that Scott had been accustomed to

eating in Boston. He found, though, that after his time at Lancer, eating simpler food, and Maria's Spanish dishes, that he no longer

had the same enjoyment for the heavy food.

The first sign for Scott that things at the meal were going to be heavy, other than the food, was when Charlie came down

the stairs, dressed in Teresa's overalls, and her cowboy boots.

They were preparing to walk into the dining room, and Katherine, spotting her for the first time, came to a halt.

"What in the world are you wearing?" she asked, sounding horrified.

"Clothes, I believe," Charlie said, and sailed on into the dining room ahead of her aunt, and Scott.

"Charlotte, I've asked you repeatedly not to wear boy's clothing, especially at the dinner table," Katherine went on, following

Charlie.

Charlie sat down in one of the chairs at the table. "I'm not," she said. "These aren't boys clothes." She shot Scott

a triumphant look. "Right, Scott?"

Before Scott could answer, and head off the oncoming skirmish, Charlie went on, "They belonged to my friend, Teresa. She used

to wear them when she was my age, and she gave them to me. So they're not boy's clothes."

Katherine looked genuinely flabbergasted, and gave Scott a look, before she laughed that tinkly laugh again.

"I will never understand this child," she said to Scott. "She has a closet full of beautiful clothing, and she prefers

to dress like some sort of-farmer, or something."

"There's nothing wrong with farmers," Charlie said. "If it weren't for them, and the ranchers, you wouldn't have

beef and vegetables to feed all those friends of yours at your fancy dinner parties."

Scott restrained himself, and looked to Katherine, waiting for her to correct Charlie's sassiness, but Katherine only shrugged,

and said, "I told you, she delights in stirring me up," to Scott.

Scott held Katherine's chair as she sat down, all while he was trying to catch Charlie's eye, but she wasn't looking at

him.

"Thank you, Mr. Lancer," Katherine said, and regarded him with new interest. "Sit here beside me," she told him,

and Scott sat down.

"Those are the sort of clothing that are appropriate to wear at our home," Scott said, by way of explanation. "We're outside

a lot, and kids can get real dirty, so it's best if they have some chore clothes to wear."

"I see," Katherine said, and Charlie sighed a heavy sigh, as if Katherine was a burden that she had to bear.

For a time, after that, as the food was passed around the table, Katherine was genial and charming, drawing Scott into

conversation, asking questions about Lancer, and about Murdoch and Johnny.

"It sounds as though you have a profitable ranch," she surmised.

"We're doing alright," Scott said modestly. "Most of the credit goes to my father. It's his hard work that got it

where it is today. My brother and I are latecomers to the world of ranching."

"You didn't grow up there?" Katherine asked.

"No. I was raised in Boston," Scott said.

"I thought there was something about you," Katherine said, "Something that goes beyond being just a simple rancher.

You've obviously been raised around culture."

"You make it sound like it's a disease, or something," Charlie spoke up from her seat across the table. "There's nothing wrong with

being a simple rancher."

"I didn't say that there was, Charlotte," Katherine said, at the same moment as Scott said,

"Charlie, that's enough."

Charlie widened her eyes, at both her aunt and at Scott. After that, she subsided, and was quiet, seeming to sulk.

She showed no signs of her normally monumental appetite. She again, as she had earlier at the restaurant, pushed

her food around, looking petulant and sullen.

Scott found that it was taking all his restraint not to discipline her, right there at the table, in front of the aunt,

who obviously had neither the interest or the ability to make Charlie behave.

"Would you like dessert, Mr. Lancer?" Katherine asked him, as they finished their meal.

"No, thank you."

Katherine rose to her feet, and Scott stood up as well. "I apologize, but I really do have plans this evening. I need

to go upstairs and dress." She put out her hand to Scott, and they shook hands again. "I'll send you a wire, then, in two weeks time,

as we discussed?"

"That's fine. Thank you for the meal," Scott said.

"It was my pleasure," Katherine said, and paused to give Charlie a glance. "I'll see you at breakfast, Charlotte."

Charlie poked at her vegetables with her fork, and didn't answer. Katherine shrugged lightly, looking at Scott,

as if to say 'oh, well', and walked out of the room.

"Charlie," Scott said sternly, and when she looked up at him, he said, "Stand up, and go and answer your aunt properly."

Charlie blinked at him. "What?" she asked.

"Stand up," Scott repeated, "and go after your aunt, and answer her."

"You mean about-seeing me at breakfast?" Charlie asked, looking startled.

"Yes. About that. Go on."

Charlie stood up quick enough, and watched Scott warily, as she walked out into the foyer. Scott followed close

enough so that he could hear.

"Katherine," Charlie said, as her aunt was midway up the stairs.

Katherine turned, surprised to see Charlie standing there at the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll-see you at breakfast," Charlie said.

Katherine looked from Charlie to Scott, who was standing in the doorway of the dining room, and

said, "Alright." She nodded to Scott, and went on up the staircase.

Charlie turned to look back at Scott, her expression wary. Scott turned and went back into the dining room, where he

sat back down in his chair, and picked up his coffee cup, finishing what was left.

Charlie came to stand in the doorway of the dining room, and that's where she stood. When Scott set his empty cup down, he

turned to look her way.

"Come over here and sit down," Scott told her, and pulled out the chair next to him, moving his own so that it

was facing the other chair.

Charlie came slowly over to the chair, and sat down.

"I'm disappointed in you," Scott said.

"Why, Scott?" Charlie asked, looking genuinely confused. "You mean because I didn't answer her?"

"That's just one of many things that you did tonight that disappoints me. Your behavior during the entire

meal has been unacceptable. Talking back like you did, being rude, playing with your food. If you did any

of that at our dinner table, you'd be sent away from the table, and up to your room. And you'd stay in your

room that evening and the entire next day, including having your meals up there by yourself."

Charlie looked at him, seemingly horrified. "But, Scott-" she began.

"No, Charlie," Scott said, shutting down her protests firmly. "If you can't behave at a table for a meal with other

people, then you should eat alone until you can."

Charlie's eyes filled with tears. "Don't be angry with me, Scott. Please! Not tonight, not when I have to stay

here by myself!"

It took everything Scott had in him, not to cave in. He took a deep breath, and a couple of moments, and then

he said, "That doesn't have anything to do with you having proper behavior."

"She made you like her!" Charlie accused him, her eyes flashing thru tears. "She pretended with you, so

that you'd think she's better than she really is!"

Scott was stunned by her vehement response. From tears to fury.

"That's not true," Scott said.

"It is true!" Charlie insisted. "She was pretending to be interested in Lancer, and all of that, so that

you'd think she's some sort of grand lady, or something! And then she'll get you to believe that I'm a bad

kid! That I'm nothing but trouble! That's what she tells everybody about me!"

And with that, Charlie covered her face with both of her hands, and began to sob.

Scott wasn't sure just how much time passed, after he held Charlie on his lap, and comforted her the best way that he knew

how, and told her that he'd never think of her as trouble, or a nuisance. He saw her into bed, and read to her, then sat until she fell

asleep.

Then he hailed a hansom cab, and went back to his hotel room, where he knew something with a certainty. He knew he

was going to get drunk.

L


	13. Overalls are a give away

Scott woke up early the next morning, with a pounding headache, for which he knew he had only himself to blame. He'd kept the promise

he'd made the evening before to drink himself into oblivion. Now that it was morning, and the sun coming into the window made his eyes

ache, he felt foolish. He pulled on a clean shirt, and gathered up his belongings, going to check out of the hotel. He went to inquire on

stage times, and then went to have a cup of coffee. He sat there, drinking the coffee that in no way measured up to Maria's, watching

the people walking past.

By the time he'd boarded the stage, and traveled the ride home, he found himself growing short-tempered. The more he thought

about the evening before, the more angry he became. What sort of a woman wasn't home to greet a child who'd been gone a length of

time? What sort of a woman then left again for an evening out, when the child had only just come home? Showed no concern about

the trouble that could have befallen the child? Claimed no responsibility for the fact that Charlie didn't want to be there?

Granted, Charlie was not an innocent little angel. Scott was well aware of that fact, and had no illusions about what

a true handful that Charlie was. But there was something wrong in that house. Scott couldn't determine just what it was, but

there was something, he knew that. And he knew it with a chilling certainty.

When the stage stopped, in Green River, Scott's mood hadn't improved any. He got out of the stage, feeling as though his

head was going to explode.

The driver tossed his bag down to him, and Scott had only just turned when Johnny was there, at his side.

"Hey, Scott," he greeted his brother, giving Scott's shoulder a light slap. "Stage is right on time today."

"It took long enough," Scott said.

"How's the kid?" Johnny asked, as they began to walk up the street together, and Scott heard the genuine

concern in Johnny's voice.

"Not so good," Scott returned.

Johnny gave him a questioning glance, but Scott shook his head, and Johnny said no more until they reached

the post in front of the general store where Johnny had tied his and Scott's horses.

"Wanna get a beer?" Johnny asked.

Scott grimaced. "No."

Johnny leaned across the horse's back, and his eyes sparkled a little. "Tied one on last night, didn't ya?"

"I'm sorry to say that you're right," Scott said, and Johnny heard the discouragement in his voice.

Johnny turned from teasing to understanding. He nodded, and they mounted, riding for some time in

silence. After awhile, Scott felt the knot inside his belly begin to ease, and the pain in his head to diminish, just slightly. It was peaceful,

riding along with Johnny this way.

"I'm not much for being good company today," Scott said finally, into the silence. "Sorry."

"You don't have to say sorry to me," Johnny said.

Scott turned and he and Johnny exchanged a look. It was a look of understanding. Respect. Caring.

"I know I don't have to," Scott said. "And that means a lot. It means a whole lot, little brother."

His comment of appreciation touched Johnny. Scott could tell by the way that Johnny's eyes softened, and

then sparkled.

After a few moments, Scott sighed. "It's just, this whole thing with Charlie, it's gotten so much bigger than anything I

expected."

Johnny was quiet, just watching Scott, and listening.

"I never thought that day at the depot when I stopped her from getting her ears slapped, that it would come to-this," Scott

said.

"Come to you lovin' her, ya mean?" Johnny asked, though not so much as a question as a statement of fact.

Scott looked at Johnny, visibly startled at hearing the word 'love'. Then, when Johnny just looked right back at him, steady, Scott sighed,

and looked back out towards the road ahead.

"Yeah. I guess that about sums it up," Scott said.

L

Once at home, Scott went to greet his father, and give Murdoch a promise that they would have a lengthy talk later that

evening. After that, he fixed himself a sandwich in the kitchen, and then he went out to repair a line of fence, pounding and pulling

and lifting, stripping off his shirt in the heat of the day, and working himself hard. Even as his body worked, his mind was

on a little girl with big brown eyes. Eyes that had been full of sadness before they closed for sleep the night before.

L

That evening, after an afternoon full of physical labor, and a hot bath, and supper, Scott sat down with his family in

Murdoch's study.

Murdoch poured drinks from the bottle of bourbon, and offered Scott a glass.

"No, sir, thanks," Scott refused.

"Is your head still poundin'?" Johnny asked, teasing again, as he took the glass that Murdoch was offering to him.

"It's better," Scott said. "The hammers have gotten softer."

As they all sat together, Scott shared with them how the previous evening had gone.

"I can't believe she wanted to send Charlie by herself, when she comes to visit," Teresa said, looking peeved.

"I told her that if I couldn't come for some reason, that you'd come," Scott told Murdoch.

Murdoch nodded. "That's fine."

"So what's she look like?" Johnny asked. "The aunt?"

Scott hesitated, and Johnny laughed. "Let me guess," Johnny said. "Ugly as a mud fence, huh?"

"No, I wouldn't say that," Scott said. "She's a fine looking woman. On the outside, anyway."

"So was the kid bein' truthful about what she's like?" Johnny asked.

"I think for the most part Charlie has her aunt fairly well figured out," Scott said.

"So in two weeks, then?" Murdoch asked.

"Two weeks," Scott affirmed.

There was silence in the room for a few moments, and then Johnny said, "I'd better get busy findin' a horse for her."

L

And find a horse he did, indeed. Johnny was gone one entire morning, and arrived back home, leading a black and white paint

behind him. Scott, who had been on his way into the house to get a cool drink, paused, and watched Johnny riding up.

He went to greet his brother, and Johnny handed off the other horse's reins to Scott, before he swung down from his own horse.

"What do ya think?" Johnny asked.

Scott, no stranger to identifying a valuable horse, was looking the paint over.

"Nice," he said, in approval. "Where'd you get him?"

"From the new storekeeper in town. I saw him not long ago, and I've been keepin' an eye on him," Johnny said.

"How old?" Scott asked.

"Ten or eleven," Johnny said. "But that's better for the kid than a young horse, anyway."

"Why'd he want to sell him?" Scott asked then.

"He didn't particularly want to sell him," Johnny specified, with the emphasis on the word 'want'.

Scott leveled a look at his irrepressible brother. "What did you do?" he asked.

"I didn't do anything," Johnny said, in protest. "I just convinced him to sell. In a totally businesslike manner, of course," he added,

tongue-in-cheek.

"Of course," Scott said dryly, and Johnny grinned at him.

"I figured she can use one of the saddles here until we get her one of her own," Johnny said. "Maybe for her birthday, or somethin'

like that. When is her birthday, anyway?"

Scott hesitated, thinking. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't think the subject's ever come up."

"Well, we'll have to find out. Give her one heck of a birthday party," Johnny said, looking as excited as if he were a kid himself.

"Yeah," Scott said, and ran his hand down the horse's neck. "You think he's calm enough, safe for Charlie to ride?" he asked.

Johnny gave an eye roll. "Yes, Papa," he said mockingly. "I've ridden him several times. I wouldn't put her on a horse

I haven't checked out myself."

"Alright, alright," Scott said, aware that he'd ruffled Johnny's feathers.

"What sort of uncle do you think I am?" Johnny asked then, reaching out to take the reins from Scott's hand, and still sounding a

bit miffed.

"Uncle?" Scott asked, with a start.

Johnny stopped and looked back. "Well, yeah. Uncle. That's sort of what I am, isn't it?" Then he grinned at Scott, his

blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Huh, Papa?"

L

A few days passed, and it seemed to Scott as though everybody in the house was anxious for Charlie to arrive. Maria was planning

a day of cooking that Charlie could help with, and Teresa said that she thought she'd take Charlie into town when she went to visit her friend,

Lydia. Lydia had a younger sister, about Charlie's age, and Teresa suggested that it would give Charlie a chance to make a friend in the area.

When Scott had listened to Teresa chatter on about it, and she paused, he kissed her forehead.

"Thank you," he said. "For thinking of it."

Teresa looked up at him, and nodded. "I remember what it was like when I first came here with my father. It seemed as though

it was hard to find friends my own age. If I can make it easier for Charlie, then I'll be glad to do it."

When the wire from Stockton arrived, with Katherine stating that Charlie could come to Lancer within three days, Scott brought up the subject after supper.

"I was thinking that I'd go a day earlier," he said. "Spend the night there, and maybe I'd have a chance to have another conversation

with Katherine before her guests arrive."

"That's a good idea," Murdoch agreed. "How long does she plan for Charlie to stay with us? Does the wire say that?"

"No, it doesn't say," Scott said.

"Well, that's another reason to see the woman," Murdoch said. "And discuss things."

"I could go along with you," Johnny volunteered, from his spot at the end of the sofa. When Scott looked at him, and Murdoch

raised an eyebrow, Johnny shrugged, and said with a grin, "I'd like to get a look at this aunt for myself."

L

So, on the morning two days later, Scott and Johnny boarded the stage in Green River, and Murdoch, who'd driven them to

town in the wagon, prepared to set back out for home.

Johnny, who enjoyed stage rides mainly for one thing, which was observing the other passengers, and studying them, was busy doing just that.

He and Scott were seated on one side, and there were two older women and a man occupying the opposite seat. One of the women was openly

flirtatious with Johnny, and he returned the attention.

The man grew increasingly agitated, and finally snapped, "Margaret!" And then turned on Johnny. "Kindly keep your attentions

to yourself, sir."

"My apologies," Johnny said, sounding anything but apologetic, and winked at the woman, which caused her to blush, and

Scott to give him an elbow to his ribs.

When they finally arrived in Stockton, and disembarked, Johnny touched the brim of his hat to the lady, as she was

escorted away by the man and other woman.

"What do you think you're doing?" Scott demanded, as the driver tossed down their bags.

"I was just bein' friendly," Johnny protested.

"To another man's wife!" Scott said severely.

"She's not his wife," Johnny said with certainty.

"What makes you think so?" Scott demanded.

"The other one's his wife," Johnny said. "That one, well, I'm not sure, but she wasn't his wife."

"Well, she's his something," Scott insisted. "And even if you like courting danger and the possibility of getting yourself

shot on a stagecoach ride, I don't want to get shot along with you, just because I happen to be your traveling companion."

"Alright, alright," Johnny said.

L

They checked into the same hotel that Scott had stayed at before, garnering a room with two beds, and an attached bath.

"So, how are we gonna work this?" Johnny asked, laying back on the bed to test its softness.

"I'll write a note, and send it to the house, telling her we're in town, and asking if we can come over this evening to

talk to her," Scott said.

"Hmm," Johnny said.

"Then, after that, if she doesn't have any objections, we'll go ahead and take Charlie with us, and go out to supper somewhere,

and then leave in the morning to get back home," Scott added.

So Scott wrote out the note, and went to the stables, paying the boy who worked there to take the note to Katherine's home.

When he came back to the room, Johnny was stretching, having just woken up from a nap.

"Taking a nap in the middle of the day?" Scott asked him, with a raised eyebrow.

"Ridin' on a stage is tiring work," Johnny said, and grinned. "Not to mention warding off all that attention that

female was givin' me."

"It didn't look as though you were trying very hard to ward it off," Scott said.

Johnny stood up, tucking in his shirt. "I'm gonna go out for a walk or somethin'," he said. "Wanna go with me?"

"No. I told the boy I'd be here, in case Katherine sends an answer," Scott said.

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit then," Johnny said.

Scott stretched out on his bed, and folded his arms under his head. "Well, don't get into any trouble," he said, and

closed his eyes.

L

Johnny walked for awhile, pausing to look in a couple of store windows. He found a bench in front of the bank, not too

far from the hotel, and sat down, resting one ankle on the other knee. He was entertaining himself, people watching once

again, when his attention was caught by a group of kids. A couple of them, boys, came tearing around the corner of the building

at the end of the sidewalk, and running full force down the sidewalk, nearly knocking over an elderly couple.

"Hey!" Johnny called after them, but there was no sign that they heard him, and he settled back again. It was too hot

to chase a couple of wayward kids.

A few moments later, those two were followed by three more, these a little younger appearing, a boy and two girls, all

dressed in the same manner, worn and scuffy-looking clothing, and hats covering their heads.

Again with the tearing down the street, laughing and hollering.

There were no older folks in the way this time, and Johnny merely moved his foot back so as not to have it trampled on.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw one of the kids swipe an apple from the cart in front of the

mercantile on their way past. Johnny had himself, swiped a few apples in his time, so he continued sitting, figuring to mind his own business.

There was the sound of a window glass being broken from the alley beside the bank, and then shouting. Johnny got up and

went to look into the narrow alley, in time to see the two taller kids running again. At least he thought it was the same two that

had nearly knocked over the older couple. And now they were breaking windows. He saw one of the clerks come out of a side door,

investigate the broken glass, and then go back inside the bank.

No sooner had the clerk gone back inside, that there were two more kids running back, and then disappearing down what

looked like another alley, between two stores. Johnny watched, and was about to go back to his bench seat again, when something

gave him pause.

There was something about the one, right before they rounded the corner out of sight. It was the way the kid ran, but mostly

it was the faded brown of the overalls that she wore that identified her. Teresa's overalls.

"Well, damn," Johnny muttered, and made his way down the sidewalk and in the direction the last two kids had taken to.

He bypassed the first alley, and waited at the corner of the building of the second. He heard glass shattering again in the first alley,

and then he took a couple of steps back so as not to be seen. When he heard feet pounding, and coming his way, he stepped out

quick-like, with the stealth that had helped to earn him a reputation. It was no great hardship to grab the kid nearest

to him, the smallest one, the one in the overalls. The other kid didn't stop to look back, but ran on, intent on their own

escape.

When the bundle in his hands began to struggle, Johnny tightened his grip somewhat.

"Charlie!" he said, in a harsh voice, one meant to command attention.

Immediately, at the recognition of his voice, the struggling ceased. Johnny kept a firm grip on one arm, and with his free hand, he reached out to take

the less-than-desirable hat from the top of Charlie's head. Long auburn hair tumbled down to her shoulders.

"Johnny!" Charlie said, breathless from running. "What are you doing here?!"

"I'm here to see you," Johnny returned mildly enough. "Why don't you tell me what it is that you're doin' here?" He waved the hat in his

hand down the alley way to the right to demonstrate the 'here' that he was talking about.

"I-we were just-" Charlie began, still breathless, and then her voice tapered off.

"Just what?" Johnny demanded, and gave her a little shake with the hand that still held her arm.

"Just fooling around," Charlie said, but Johnny didn't miss the fact that she wasn't belligerent with her answer. She looked

embarrassed.

"Looks like more than foolin' around to me," Johnny said, in correction. "Looks as though it's property damage. Breakin' windows

and all."

Charlie bit at her lip. "I didn't break any windows! I didn't throw one rock, Johnny! Not even one!"

Johnny surveyed her with a fierce expression, and kept his voice hard. "Bein' with that crowd of kids? You think when

you're caught that any lawman is goin' to believe that you didn't toss a rock yourself?"

When Charlie didn't answer, but just breathed hard, and looked up at him with what he saw as a frightened expression, he

answered for her. "They won't believe it, and that's for sure and certain. You'll be treated as though you were guilty of doin'

it all yourself."

For a long moment, they stood surveying one another. Johnny had released her arm, but Charlie stood still. He could see

that she was frightened, but he set himself to not show any sympathy for her.

"What are you doin' this for, anyway?" he asked her then. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

Charlie looked at him, and sighed, but was still quiet.

"Answer me," he ordered.

"I guess I do," she said, very low.

"Is this somethin' you make a habit of?" he asked. "Run around and get up to mischief with that crowd?"

Charlie bit at her lip again, and he could see that she was struggling with telling him the truth.

"Sometimes," she admitted.

Johnny sighed heavily. "This is bad, pequeno."

"I don't do anything though, Johnny," she protested in defense. "I don't steal, and I don't tear anything up. I just-go

with them."

"What did I just get done tellin' you?" Johnny said, his voice harsh again. "That's not gonna matter, not one iota, when

a sheriff or his deputy catch hold of ya."

He ran a hand over his face, and then put his hands on his hips, staring Charlie down.

"You need to be spanked," he said.

Charlie's face lost its color, and she turned pale. "Are you gonna?" she asked tremulously.

"I'd say there's a good chance of it," he said, and looked about the alley. "Come here," he said, and steered her

to the end, and around the back of one of the stores.

He found a wooden bench set against the building, and sat down, pulling Charlie over to stand in front of him.

"I care about ya, pequeno. That's why I'm gonna do this."

Charlie began to cry, rubbing at her cheeks vigorously, and Johnny paused, "What are you cryin' for already? You haven't been

spanked yet."

"I'm scared!" she wailed.

Johnny braced himself to remain steadfast, and said, "It's alright to be scared. It's not supposed to be pleasant."

He gave her a pull, and took her across his knee. He put a half a dozen healthy smacks onto the seat of the brown

overalls, and she hollered after each one as though he was killing her. When he stood her back up, she rubbed at her bottom,

and half-danced for a few moments. "That really hurt!"

Johnny surveyed her seriously for a long few moments, waiting until she calmed herself down.

She stopped moving so much, though she was still rubbing, and still sniffling.

"Tell me why I did that," he ordered.

"Because-I was with kids that are doing bad things."

"And?" Johnny prompted her.

"And-if I keep on, I'll be blamed even if I don't do what they do-and I can get into trouble," Charlie said, swiping at

her wet cheek.

"I don't want you doin' anything like this anymore," Johnny said. "Not at all. Not ever. You understand me?"

Charlie nodded, a bit of her hair catching on her wet cheeks. "Yes," she said.

Johnny reached out to brush the hair from her cheek. "Scott's at the hotel," he said quietly.

Charlie turned pale yet again. "He is?" she asked, with somewhat of a note of alarm in her voice.

"Yeah. We came up a day early to get ya for your visit. Scott sent a note to the house, and we were gonna take you

out to supper, and then spend the night here at the hotel. "

"Oh," Charlie said, barely able to be heard, and Johnny knew all the thoughts of hers in that one little word.

L


	14. Reluctance

They walked back to the hotel, Johnny with Charlie beside him, without either of them saying much at all.

Going past the front desk clerk, and up the stairs, Charlie began to drag behind.

At the top of the stairs, Johnny paused, to wait for her to catch up to him. "Have your feet stopped workin'?" he asked her.

"Are you going to tell Scott?" she asked, pausing at the last stair, and leaning on the bannister.

"No," Johnny said, and saw her face light up with relief.

"You are," he said, and the light faded instantly.

"Please don't make me, Johnny," she pleaded. "Can't it be between the two of us?"

"No, pequeno."

Johnny opened the door to the hotel room, and stepped inside enough to see that Scott was splashing water on his face, from the basin

in the small bath.

"I wondered if you were coming back," Scott said, reaching for a clean towel and drying at his face.

Johnny stood in the open doorway, halfway in and halfway out of the room.

"What's wrong?" Scott said, looking at him, puzzled, and coming out into the main room.

"I ran into somebody while I was out walkin'," Johnny said.

"Yeah?" Scott asked.

Johnny reached out and gave a grab, pulling Charlie into the room so that she was standing in front of him.

Scott looked surprised for a long moment, to see her standing there. Then his expression changed from surprise to

gladness. "Hey!" he said, in greeting, and came forward.

"Hi, Scott," Charlie said, obviously subdued.

Scott looked from his brother, whose expression was grave, to the little girl, who looked as though she might bolt from the

room at any moment.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, drying his hands and then tossing the towel onto one of the beds.

"Charlie has somethin' to tell ya," Johnny said, and when the little girl was silent, he gave her a light poke in the

center of her back. "Go on," he told her.

Still she was silent, looking everywhere but directly at Scott. Her eyes were fixed somewhere over his shoulder, onto a painting

on the hotel room wall.

"Charlie?" Scott prompted.

"I was-with some other kids, and they were throwing rocks at windows," Charlie said, still looking at the painting.

"Where?" Scott asked, confused.

"Uptown," Johnny supplied. "Near the bank. And they were breakin', not just throwin'."

Scott scratched at his neck, thinking. "Hmmm," he said.

He stepped closer to Charlie, and lifted her chin so that she had to look directly at him.

"Why were you doing that?" he asked her.

"I don't know," Charlie said, her eyes brimming with tears.

"That's not a very good answer," Scott said. "It's not really an answer at all. Is it?"

"No, Scott," Charlie said, looking miserable.

"She says she wasn't the one doin' the throwin'," Johnny tossed in.

"Hmm," Scott said again. Then, still holding her chin, he asked, "Where does your aunt think you are?"

"She doesn't," Charlie said, and then at Scott's raised eyebrow, she added, "I mean, I don't know what she thinks. She

wasn't at home."

A feeling of disgust for Katherine came over Scott. Near to anger.

He dropped his hand from Charlie's chin. "Go and wash your hands and face," he told her, nodding towards the tiny

lavatory.

Charlie went without a word, into the adjoining bath, and closed the door quietly. Scott looked at Johnny, who gave a

shrug, and a shake of his dark head.

"There was a bunch of them," he told Scott, his voice low. "Broke at least two windows that I know of. Snitchin' apples."

Scott sighed. "But you didn't see her throw a rock?"

"No. I didn't see her. I told her that if she's caught, it'll be the same as if she was the one doin' all the damage," Johnny said.

Scott nodded. "Right," he agreed.

"I hope I did right," Johnny said, and at Scott's questioning look, Johnny added, "I gave her a few swats. I thought-it

seemed like one of those times when it called for somethin' immediate to be done."

Scott nodded again. "Yeah."

The door to the lavatory opened, and Charlie stood there in the doorway, her face clean, but looking as sad as if she'd lost

her best friend.

"What now?" Johnny asked Scott. "We gonna head over to the house, or wait for a note?"

"We'll go on over there," Scott said.

"Alright. I'll get a cab, or is it close enough to walk?" Johnny asked.

"It's close," Scott said. "But go on and get a cab."

"Alright. I'll wait down there for ya," Johnny said and went out, closing the door to the room behind him.

Scott turned from his spot in the center of the room and began to tuck his shirt back into the waist of his pants. He was silent, going to

the bed to pick up his hat.

He sighed, and looked back at Charlie. "I thought you could behave yourself," he said. "I've seen you do it, when you were

staying with us. But maybe you really can't, huh?"

Charlie looked back at him, and then hung her head, looking at the floor.

"You don't have anything to say?" Scott asked, feeling his temper begin to rise.

Charlie, still looking at her feet, mumbled something.

"What?" Scott asked. "Speak up, Charlie. If you have something to say, then say it where I can hear it."

"I can," Charlie said, more clearly.

"You can what?" Scott demanded, his tone sharp.

"I can behave." She scuffed the toe of her boot on the floor.

"Yet most of the time, it seems you choose not to," Scott said.

"It's different here," Charlie said quietly. "Here it doesn't matter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Scott asked, and then he realized that he already knew the answer. "Never mind," he said,

going to the door and opening it. "Come on."

Charlie looked up at him, her eyes shiny with tears. "Are you taking me back to Katherine's house?" she asked, and even

at that moment, when his temper was frayed, Scott didn't miss the fact that she referred to it as 'Katherine's house', and not

'home'.

"Yes. Let's go," he said, and nodded towards the open door.

"I don't get to go?" she asked then, looking as though she was going to burst into full-out sobs.

"What?" Scott asked, confused, and tense.

"For my visit. I don't get to go with you now? Back to Lancer?"

"I didn't say anything about you not going back with Johnny and I, did I?" Scott asked, his tone curt.

When she just stood there, staring at him with wide brown eyes, Scott sighed, and went to stand in front of Charlie,

leaning down so that he was on eye-level with her.

"We came to get you, to take you back to Lancer with us," he said. "We came a day early, because I was hoping to

talk to your aunt. What you were doing today, with those other kids, it's real serious. And we're going to talk about it some more. But yes, you're

coming with us. I keep my promises. Remember?"

Charlie nodded, and then reached up to hug Scott around the neck, so suddenly that he didn't see it coming. Scott

wrapped Charlie in a return hug, and they stayed that way until he felt his back begin to ache from leaning over.

"Let's go and see if your aunt's home now," he said, standing up.

L


	15. Mr Beets

L

The ride to the house was quiet, for the most part. At one point, Johnny gave Charlie a nudge in the ribs.

"What's your aunt gonna think of what you've been up to today?" he asked her.

"She won't care," Charlie said, matter-of-factly, keeping her eyes on her boots.

Johnny was about to protest, to insist that her aunt would, indeed, surely care, when he caught Scott's eye over the top

of Charlie's head.

Scott shook his head, just slightly, and Johnny raised his eyebrows, and subsided.

When the hansom cab stopped in front of the large house, Scott got out first, and lifted Charlie down, followed by Johnny.

Charlie used a key that she pulled from the pocket of the overalls, to open the door, and they went inside.

"Should I go ask the maid if Katherine's at home?" Charlie asked, looking up at Scott.

Scott nodded, removing his hat. "Yeah. Go do that," he said, and Charlie went off.

Johnny, who was busy looking around at the opulence, gave a low whistle. "Some house," he observed, taking off his own hat to hold.

"Uh huh," Scott acknowledged.

In just a matter of minutes, Charlie was back, reporting that Katherine was upstairs, preparing for early guests to arrive.

"I'll go up and tell her you're here," Charlie said, and began to bound up the staircase.

"After that, go change and get together whatever you're taking with you, back with us," Scott told her.

"Okay!" Charlie called back, without pausing in her ascent of the stairs.

A maid appeared, a different one this time, than Scott had seen before. This one was younger, and pretty, and she gave

them a shy smile.

"May I take your hats, gentlemen?" she asked.

"We're not staying long, but thank you," Scott said, and the maid nodded, giving Johnny another smile, which he promptly returned.

When they were still standing there, several minutes later, Johnny gave an impatient sigh. "I feel as though we're waitin' for the

queen to arrive, or somethin'," he complained.

"She likes to make an entrance," Scott said, and Johnny laughed.

Finally, they heard Katherine's voice, calling to one of the maids, and turned to see Katherine sweeping down the stairs.

She was wearing a dress that was, Scott was sure, the latest fashion, which showed a generous amount of cleavage.

"Mr. Lancer," she said, extending her hand as she came across the room to greet them. "How lovely to see you again."

Scott took the offered hand. "Thank you," he said simply.

"And who's this?" Katherine asked, turning to look at Johnny.

"This is my brother, Johnny," Scott said. " Johnny, this is Charlie's aunt, Katherine Burch."

"Hello," Johnny said, in greeting, giving her a nod.

"The brother who can whisper to horses," Katherine said dryly, and Johnny looked at her, puzzled.

"Ma'm?" he asked, in question.

"Charlotte says that you have an unusual talent with horses," Katherine said, and then she laughed that tinkling laugh that

Scott disliked so much. "Honestly, the two of you, and your father, and that ranch of yours, that's all that Charlotte talks about,

morning, noon and night."

She followed this by offering Johnny her hand. When he took it, she added, "I think I know more about your family than

I do my own, after hearing her go on and on."

It was not meant as a compliment, and neither brother took it as such.

"Did I misunderstand?" Katherine asked then, releasing Johnny's hand, and looking back at Scott. "I thought it was tomorrow

that you were coming for Charlotte?"

"You didn't misunderstand," Scott said. "We just came up a day early. I'd hoped that we'd be able to talk."

"I see," Katherine said, and turned to call to the passing maid. "Bridget, please see to the horderves."

"Yes, ma'm," the maid said, and passed on by.

Katherine turned back to Scott. "Excuse me. I have guests coming this evening, and there are details to attend to."

"I understand," Scott said. "It would just take a few minutes."

At Katherine's stare, Scott said, "For us to speak. It would just take a few minutes."

"Of course," Katherine said. "Let's go into the parlor."

She turned and began to walk, with Scott and Johnny following behind. Johnny gave Scott a raised eyebrow look, nodding at Katherine's

back, as if to say, 'is she for real?'

In the parlor, Katherine sat down on the edge of a chair, and Scott sat down near her. Johnny remained standing, and

Katherine gestured towards another chair, and said, "You're welcome to sit, Mr. Lancer,"

"I'll stand, thank you, ma'm," Johnny said.

Katherine looked at Johnny for a long moment, measuring him up, and then gave a light lift of her shoulders. "As you wish," she said.

She turned her attentions to Scott, smoothing her skirt as she spoke. "What was it you wanted to speak to me about?"

"I thought if it was alright with you, that we'd like to take Charlie with us this evening, instead of in the morning," Scott said.

"I see. Well, that's very nice, but unfortunately that won't be possible. Charlotte has guests to greet this evening," Katherine said.

For a moment Scott was puzzled into silence. A look at Johnny's raised eyebrows, and then Scott looked back to Katherine.

"I see," he found himself replying, and realized that he sounded exactly like Katherine. "I wasn't aware. Charlie didn't mention that

to us-"

"Oh, she doesn't know it yet," Katherine said, again with the tinkling laugh. "She'll have such a fit about it, that I won't tell her until I absolutely

must."

Katherine included both of them in a smile. "Charlotte is not fond of having to be present at any evening that includes manners and proper

dress, I'm sorry to say."

"We promised her she could go out to supper with us," Johnny said, and though Scott shot him a look to warn him off, Johnny

met Katherine's stare, eye to eye.

"Well, that is unfortunate," Katherine said. "However, it simply cannot be helped. She needs to be here this evening."

Her gaze flickered away from Johnny's, and back to Scott's. Scott tried to temper his words.

"Well, alright," he said, in agreement. "Could we come back later this evening and pick Charlie up then?"

"Well, yes, I think that would be fine," Katherine agreed.

"Good," Scott said.

"Was there anything else?" Katherine asked, looking obviously impatient to be going about her business.

"Well, yes, there were a couple of more things," Scott said. "The most important is that I wondered if you were aware of

where Charlie was this afternoon?"

"This afternoon?" Katherine asked. "No, I haven't seen Charlotte since breakfast, I don't believe. Why?"

"She was with some other kids uptown," Scott began, to be interrupted by Katherine.

"Oh, yes," she said, with a wave of her hand. "Those awful hooligans that she associates with! Not one of them from a decent family. Not

one."

Scott had to turn slightly so that he wouldn't have to look at his brother's scowling face, growing angrier by the moment.

"Well, I don't know anything about the families of these particular kids," Scott said. "But they were up to some mischief. Johnny says

they were throwing rocks, and breaking windows."

For a long moment there was silence. Katherine said, "And Charlotte was a part of the group that was involved in that?"

"Yes, she was," Scott said.

"Well," Katherine said, and then another moment of silence. "I can't say as I'm surprised. She seems to get up to all sorts of things. I've

tried to interest her in other activities, but she just doesn't seem to take to any of them-" She lifted a hand as if to explain her inability to

understand Charlie.

Scott had the words formed to speak again, when Johnny's terse voice beat him to the draw.

"She keeps up with doin' that stuff, and she's gonna get into trouble," Johnny said.

Katherine let her gaze flicker over Johnny. "Have you raised a child, Mr. Lancer?" she asked, her tone icy.

"No, ma'm, I haven't," Johnny said.

"Then I hardly think that you're in the position to lecture me," Katherine said, letting her voice trail off a bit.

Only Scott's glance and unspoken plea kept Johnny from letting Mrs. Katherine Burch know exactly what he thought of her.

Johnny did say quietly, however, "You're right about that, that I'm not in a position to lecture you. But there's one thing that

I do know, and that is that it takes more than feedin' and givin' a bed to a kid, to be considered as raisin' them."

Katherine sat up straighter in the chair, and looked back to Scott. "I don't see any point in attempting to talk to Charlotte about today. She

simply chooses to tune out whatever I tell her."

"I'll talk to her about it, then," Scott said, trying to keep his voice even.

Katherine nodded. "If you wish. I really don't think there's anything to be concerned about, though."

"I don't understand," Scott said, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Charlotte is very bright. She is perfectly capable of knowing how to keep herself out of any serious trouble," Katherine stated.

At Scott's startled look, Katherine went on, "What I mean to say is that she will go so far, but no further. She won't get herself caught. She's

very resourceful."

Scott felt the remnants of his temper slide. "That's not really the point, though," he said.

"Meaning?" Katherine asked him.

"Meaning that whether she's caught or not, doing something like this, she just out and out should not be involved," Scott said,

with authority.

Katherine was eyeing Scott with an expression that he couldn't quite decipher, when Johnny added, from where he stood, "She could

get hurt, too."

Katherine looked at Johnny, and then smiled. "Well, as I said, you are both welcome to see if you can convince Charlotte to find

a better class of friend that what she has now."

Scott hesitated. He'd wanted to delve into some deeper issues, but it seems that the conversation had taken a slide to the dark

side. He didn't want to risk completely alienating Katherine.

He tried to sound diplomatic. "If Charlie had more ways to occupy her time, things might go a bit smoother."

"Such as?" she asked. "Believe me, I've tried-"

Scott spoke into the beginnings of her tirade. "As busy as you are," he said, with a backhanded compliment, "it would help you out

as well." He forced himself to smile at the woman across from him.

"Well," Katherine said, smoothing her dress, and reminding Johnny of a hen smoothing her feathers. "What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking that she might stay with my family for two or three weeks," Scott said. "If that would be convenient for you, that is."

"Well," Katherine said again, and Scott thought that he could practically see the wheels inside her mind working. "I would need her to

come home occasionally." She smiled at Scott, and said, with a tone of importance, "I am Charlotte's guardian, as you know, but what

you may not realize is that Charlotte is the heir to money from her grandfather."

"I believe she mentioned something about that," Scott said mildly.

"Yes. Well, it's quite a large sum, being held in trust for her, and the board at the bank here in Stockton do need to speak with her

occasionally," Katherine said.

Scott nodded, and waited.

"As a matter of fact, it's several of the board members who are attending my evening's festivities, and the reason that Charlotte needs

to attend," Katherine went on.

"I see," Scott said.

Katherine launched into a few minutes of conversation, about what a responsibility it was to be Charlie's guardian, and how it was up to her

to manage Charlie's money for her future.

Scott let her drone on, ignoring the black looks that Johnny was sending his way. He'd realized by now that Katherine enjoyed talking

about herself. And enjoyed it immensely.

When he finally found a break in the conversation, he said, "So the money is in trust, then? For when Charlie turns twenty-one?"

"Well, the majority of it, yes. We do, however, require monthly funds, in order to take care of Charlotte's needs," Katherine said.

"I see," Scott said, and he did, indeed see. Quite clearly.

"Was there anything else?" Katherine asked Scott, clearly impatient to be on her way.

"No," Scott said slowly. "I think that's it for today."

"Fine," Katherine said, and stood up. Scott stood up as well. "If you gentlemen would care to come back this evening, say about eight o'clock, you

can take Charlotte with you then, for your visit," Katherine said.

"Alright," Scott said. "I'd like to talk to Charlie for a minute, though, so she doesn't wonder why we left."

"I'll tell her all about it," Katherine said, with a wave of the hand. "I'll assure her that you'll be back later."

"I'd like to talk to her myself, if it's all the same to you," Scott said, with quiet authority.

"As you wish," Katherine said, with a shrug of her shoulders. She reached out to the nearby table and rang the small silver bell there.

A maid appeared almost immediately. The same one that had answered the door when they arrived.

"Bridgett, could you fetch Miss Charlotte, please?"

The maid bobbed her head, and disappeared. In the next few minutes, while they waited for Charlie to come downstairs, Katherine

made small talk, chatting to both Scott and Johnny about mundane things, asking questions about the ranch.

When Charlie came bursting into the room, she had changed from her scruffy over-sized clothes that she'd been wearing earlier. She

was in a blue dress. It was a simple dress, no frills, and she'd washed her face, and had obviously brushed out her hair, where it was

hanging loose about her shoulders.

"Is this alright?" she asked, looking at Scott, and gesturing to the front of the blue dress. "For wearing out to supper?"

"You look fine," Scott assured her, and then said, "We'll go out to supper another time, though. Your aunt wants you to stay

her for the evening, and have supper with her and her guests."

Charlie looked at him, her eyes widening, and then she frowned. "What?" she asked, looking from Scott to Katherine. "I don't

have to be here for it."

"Actually, Charlotte," Katherine interjected, "There are some people coming this evening that want to talk to you." This was said

in a falsely cheerful tone.

"Mr. Beets, from the bank?" Charlie asked her aunt.

"Well, he's one of them, yes," Katherine said.

"Well, I'll talk to him some other time," Charlie said, sounding definite.

"I'm afraid it needs to be this evening," Katherine insisted.

Charlotte gave her aunt a long look, and then said, "No. I'm going out with Scott and Johnny to supper."

"I'm sorry, dear. You need to have your supper here, and talk to Mr. Beets, and the others," Katherine said.

She and Charlie faced off for another long few moments, and then Charlie said, sounding distraught, "No! Tell them whatever

you want to tell them! I don't need to be here for it!"

Scott put a hand on Charlie's back. "It's alright," he said. "You can stay here and do what your aunt needs you to do. Johnny and I

will be back by eight o'clock to pick you up."

Charlie's gaze swept up to Scott's. Before she could speak, Katherine said, "Well, we'll see you later this evening then, gentlemen." She

turned to sweep out of the room, calling back, "Charlotte, you'll need to change out of that simple dress, and put on one of your party dresses."

Charlie looked from her aunt's retreating back, to Scott's face. "I don't want to stay here for her stupid party!"

Scott sighed a little, and then led Charlie over to the sofa, tugging her down next to him. "It's fine," he said.

"But it's just stupid!" Charlie insisted.

"You might think that it is," Scott said calmly. "But it seems to be important to your aunt."

"I don't care! She doesn't care what's important to me!" Charlie ranted.

Scott was silent, his gaze on her face, waiting for the tempest of her mood to pass, and wrapping his arm around her.

Johnny came over and sat down on the other side of Charlie, giving her a nudge in her side. "When we come to pick you up, we'll

get some dessert at the hotel. Some pie, with ice cream on top. Sounds good, huh?"

"Yeah," Charlie said. "But I still think it's dumb. I answer the same old questions every single time! That's all Mr. Beets asks me, are the same

old things."

"It's alright," Scott said, and gave Charlie a squeeze. "Now go on up and change your dress, like she asked you to."

He stood up, and Charlie did too, sighing.

"Okay," she said, and gave Scott another look, her eyes dull.

"Go on," Scott said, and gave her a gentle push. "We'll see you later."

"Okay," the little girl said again. "But you'll be back by eight o'clock? Promise?"

"Promise," Scott said.

L


	16. Waiting for eight

Johnny began to grumble as soon as they'd exited the front door of Katherine's house. Between them, they both decided to walk instead

of hailing a hansom cab.

"She's a piece of work," he said darkly. "I haven't had the misfortune to meet up with a female like her in a long while."

Scott was quiet, in large part because Johnny just kept right on talking.

"Making the kid stay around to perform like some circus monkey," he accused.

When Scott gave him a side-long glance, Johnny protested, "That's sure what it seems like to me."

"I'm not disagreeing with you," Scott told him.

After a few moments of silence, Johnny spoke again. "She don't care about the kid at all."

Scott had very similar opinions, but he just said, "Want to get something to eat?"

"Yeah. Sure."

As they sat across the table from each other at the restaurant, eating steaks and creamy mashed potatoes, Johnny

surveyed his brother.

"I feel sorry for the kid," he said.

"I know."

"What are you thinkin' to do?" Johnny asked.

Scott finished the bite of steak in his mouth, and met Johnny's gaze. "What are you getting at?"

Johnny picked up his knife and fork and began to cut up the remaining portion of his steak.

"I mean, just have her come back and forth, for visits, all summer?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah. I guess," Scott said.

"How about when school starts? I'll bet she doesn't go to school around here, does she? Probably gets shipped off

to some fancy boarding school that's a fair piece from home," Johnny went on.

"She went to one last year," Scott said. "She didn't like it."

Johnny put a bite of steak in his mouth, and watched Scott from across the table.

"What do you suggest that I do about it?" Scott demanded.

Johnny shrugged. "Well," he said slowly, considering. "What do you want to do about it?"

Scott signaled the waitress for a refill on his coffee. "Sometimes, Johnny," he began darkly.

"Yeah?" Johnny prompted him.

Scott, who'd been about to say something sharp to his younger brother, now just sighed. "You have a way," he said, "Of getting

to the point of things."

Johnny gave him a rakish grin. "One of my many talents," he said.

L

They went back to the hotel room after that, where Johnny sprawled across his bed, and Scott made an attempt to

read the newspaper that he'd purchased in the hotel lobby.

Finally he gave up, realizing that he wasn't even seeing the words printed on the pages. Johnny, who'd been quiet, was

playing with a yo-yo that he had in his pocket.

"Where'd you get that?" Scott asked him.

"Bought it earlier today, when I was out takin' that walk," Johnny said. "Thought I'd give it to Charlie."

Scott nodded in response, and sighed, getting up and going across the room to the window, lifting the curtains to look out

at the street below.

"How much money are we talkin' about here, anyway?" Johnny asked. "That the kid is supposed to inherit, I mean?"

"I don't know."

"Must be quite a bit," Johnny said, sounding thoughtful.

"I'd say so," Scott said, in agreement.

"She's Charlie's guardian for one reason and one reason only," Johnny continued. "Agreed?"

Scott hesitated, and then said, "Sure seems that way."

After that Johnny was quiet, so quiet in fact that Scott could hardly draw him into conversation at all.

Finally he asked, "What's the matter with you?"

"I just feel bad," Johnny said.

Scott, thinking that his brother was referring again to the fact that Charlie had a guardian that seemingly had ice running thru her veins, said,

"I know."

Johnny interpreted correctly his brother's understanding of his comment. "I don't mean about that aunt of hers," he said. "Well, I

mean, I feel bad for Charlie about that, too. But mostly I feel bad for gettin' so rough with her earlier. You know, when I caught her

with those other kids."

Scott turned from his view out of the window to survey Johnny. He was thoughtful, not saying anything at first. And then, looking

at Johnny's dejected face, he said, "It's alright. I mean, she has to learn what's acceptable and what's not."

"I know, but-" Johnny hesitated, "She didn't need to be spanked for it. She wasn't the one breakin' the windows."

"It's like you told her, though. If she'd been caught by the sheriff, she would have been just as guilty as the ones that were,"

Scott said, in an attempt to make his brother feel better.

Johnny rolled the yo yo string up, and said, "A good, stiff talking-to would have worked just as well."

"Don't kick yourself about it," Scott advised.

"I just remember what I used to get up to, when I was a kid, runnin' mostly wild. I didn't have anybody that really gave a darn, either. It

would have helped if somebody had tried to rein me in." Here Johnny looked up from the yo-yo to face Scott. He shrugged. "I guess I just

understand what's she's feelin'. At least a little bit."

Scott nodded, and gave Johnny a half-smile.

They left in plenty of time to get back to the house, taking a hansom cab.

"What time is it?" Johnny asked, and Scott pulled out his pocket watch. "Ten minutes to eight," he said.

L


	17. Fire breathing

At precisely two minutes until eight o'clock, Scott lifted the heavy door knocker on the front door. After a couple of minutes

wait, and no response, Scott lifted it again, letting it notify others of he and Johnny's arrival.

A maid responded this time, opening the door to them.

"Yes?" she asked.

"We're here to pick Charlie-Miss Charlotte up," Scott informed her.

The maid stepped aside to usher them inside. "Would you like to sit in the study?" she asked. "There are guests

here, in the dining room."

"No, thank you," Scott said. "We'll wait here. If you could let her aunt know that we've arrived."

"Of course," the maid said, and with a shy, backward glance at Johnny, which he returned with a smile of his own,

she disappeared.

Instead of the aunt, however, Charlie came from the opposite direction, first, and obviously upset, and wearing a

dress that had more lace and ruffles than Scott had ever seen on a child's apparel.

"Can I change my clothes?" she asked, without preamble.

"Yes. Go ahead," Scott told her.

"You'll wait?" she asked, sounding worried.

"I'll wait," he said, simply.

From the same direction, now came Katherine, wearing yet another dress than the one she'd worn earlier. This one, even more

daring in what it revealed. Too daring, in Scott's opinion. There was such a thing as being a lady.

"Charlotte, you come right back here," she snapped.

"It's eight o'clock," Charlie said. "You said I could go at eight. And Scott's here now."

Katherine turned her attention to Scott, fury evident in her expression. "You'll understand, I know, Mr. Lancer, that Charlotte

is not able to leave with you quite yet."

Scott was quiet for the moment, trying to read the situation.

"I am able!" Charlie burst out. "I talked to everybody like you wanted me to!"

"Mr. Beets had some more things that he wanted to ask you-" Katherine began.

"I answered his questions!" Charlie protested. "And I'm done!"

"You are not done until I say that you are!" Katherine replied, her tone matching that of Charlie's.

Scott was of the mind that it was two children bickering in front of he and Johnny, not just one.

He put a hand on Charlie's back, gentle, but firm.

"A few more minutes won't matter one way or the other," he said. "Go on and do as your aunt says."

Charlie looked up at him, her eyes wide, and aghast. And something in them. Disappointment.

Still, she sighed, and subdued, turned and went back in the direction that she'd come.

"Please," Katherine said, with a gesture, "Come in and join us for a drink."

Though he knew that Johnny wouldn't be in favor of it, and he himself didn't particularly want to, he

said, "Alright," and both and he Johnny followed her.

They were both offered a drink, which they also both refused. Politely.

They stood to the side, watching the people in the room. Obviously they were a wealthy bunch. The 'idle rich', as

Scott recognized.

One of the younger women wasted no time before approaching them.

"Are you friends with Katherine?" she asked Johnny, with a smile.

"No. With Charlie," Johnny said.

"Charlie?" she asked, looking perplexed.

"Charlotte."

"Oh. Yes. Charlotte. She certainly leads Katherine on a merry chase," the girl said with a laugh. "Makes Katherine's life miserable most of the time."

Johnny found himself not liking his first impression of this girl. "Really?" he asked, his voice soft with warning.

"Oh yes. My goodness, you would think that she would have learned some manners from all those schools she's been sent to, but so

far nothing has seemed to take."

Johnny raised a brow in answer, feeling his temper simmer.

"I guess if you're friends with Charlotte, though, you'd know all that about her already," she said, and laughed again.

Very quietly, Johnny leaned in a little, as if he was going to share a secret. The young lady, obviously intrigued, leaned in as well.

"What I know about Charlie is-she's a wonderful little girl who's had to be tough, because she lives with a woman who pays more attention

to her mirror than she does to Charlie."

He raised his head then, letting his blue eyes travel over the girl's face, and then he stood up straight, to his full height,

and, without saying another word, dismissed the young woman.

Her face turning an unbecoming shade of mottled red, the girl whirled away, and Johnny reached out to take a drink from

the platter of a passing maid, tossing it back in one swallow, with great satisfaction.

Scott, meanwhile, kept watch on Charlie, as she was led about the room by Katherine, though he didn't miss the way that

Charlie shrugged off her aunt's hand on her shoulder.

He watched as Charlie spent a few minutes with an older man in the crowd, the conversation carefully supervised by Katherine, who

never moved from Charlie's side. Curious, he moved closer, telling Johnny, "I'll be right back."

He came close enough to garner a few pieces of the conversation.

"What about your school last year?" the man was asking Charlie. "Did you like that?"

"No. I did not," Charlie answered shortly.

"Charlotte thought they demanded too much of her, academically," Katherine tossed into the conversation.

Charlie gave her aunt a look of disgust, and seemed to be on the cusp of replying when she saw Scott, only a few feet

away. She stepped over and clasped his hand, pulling.

"This is Scott," she told the older man. "Scott Lancer. Scott, this is Mr. Beets, from the bank."

"Ah, Mr. Lancer," the older man responded, extending his hand to Scott. "Charlotte has told me about you, in one of

our earlier conversations a few weeks ago. She speaks highly of you and your family."

"Well, that's good to hear," Scott said, feeling a bit put on the spot.

"I understand that you've allowed her to visit your ranch? Near Green River, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's kind of you," Mr. Beets said, studying Scott. "To allow her to visit."

"We've enjoyed it," Scott said, aware of Charlie looking up at him.

"I thought it was high time that Charlotte got out of the city occasionally," Katherine interjected. "It's good for a child

to have some healthy country air at times, I feel." She turned and gave Scott an expansive smile. "And there was

Mr. Lancer, just at the opportune time."

Thinking that the woman couldn't do or say anything further to surprise him, Scott determined that he'd been wrong about that.

Taking credit for Charlie's visits to Lancer, as if she herself had been the catalyst behind it! The audacity of the woman!

Only years of training in Boston society kept Scott from verbalizing his real reaction to her words.

Charlie, however, had no such reserve. "It had nothing to do with you at all," she said, her voice low, but clear. "Scott took

me to visit all on his own."

Katherine kept her society smile plastered on her face, though Scott saw it slip just a little.

"With my permission and encouragement, of course," she said.

"You didn't-" Charlie began.

"However it worked out, my family and I are glad that it did," Scott interrupted. He laid his hand on the back of Charlie's

head. "It's a joy to have Charlie visit with us."

Charlie's eyes were shining and she turned to look triumphantly at Mr. Beets and her aunt.

"I'm very glad for Charlotte," Mr. Beets said, still studying Scott with an intentness that he would have found discomforting,

if he'd had anything to hide, which he did not.

The banker turned to look down at Charlie. "We'll talk again soon, Charlotte," he told the little girl.

And then, with a nod to Scott he said, "I'm glad for the chance to have met you, Mr. Lancer."

"Thank you," Scott said, and in the clasp of their departing handshake, the two men's eyes met, and Scott felt

something unspoken go between them.

He nodded at the older man in acknowledgement of such, and Katherine, who hadn't missed the exchange between

the men, narrowed her eyes a bit.

"I'm sure that you'd like to be on your way, Mr. Lancer," she said. "You may take Charlotte with you now, if you wish."

As if she were granting a wish from a queen to a peasant, Scott thought, but let it pass.

He nodded at Katherine, and Mr. Beets, and looked down at Charlie.

"Did you want to change your dress?" he asked her.

"Yes! I'll hurry!" Charlie said, and whirled out of the room.

"She's certainly a ball of energy," Mr. Beets said, sounding amused.

"While entertaining, it's not acceptable for a young lady to behave like a wild ruffian," Katherine said, in seeming chiding of the

older man. "To take her place in proper society, Charlotte needs to be tamed."

"What's your opinion, Mr. Lancer?" Mr. Beets asked. "Do you think a child of Charlotte's age should be settling into

polite society?"

Scott hesitated, aware of Katherine's piercing gaze on him.

"I think it's a child's job to be a child," he said simply, thinking of the lack of frivolousness in his own childhood. "There's a time

for manners, and culture. And there's a time to just be a child. Doing childlike things, and enjoying themselves."

"What will that accomplish?" Katherine demanded, sounding piqued.

"It might let the child determine what sort of person that they want to be," Scott said. "To see just exactly what role they

want to take in so-called society."

For a moment Scott wondered if he'd perhaps said too much. It was, after all, not really his opinion that mattered.

While Katherine glared, however, Mr. Beets looked approving.

"Again, Mr. Lancer, I'm glad to have met you," he said.

And he stepped away, leaving Scott there standing beside Katherine, who surveyed him with unabashed fury.

"I don't think you understand, Mr. Lancer-" she began.

"Scott," Scott corrected her.

"Scott, then. I don't think that you understand what I'm trying to accomplish with Charlotte-"

"Perhaps not," Scott said. "If you'll excuse me, Johnny and I will go and wait by the front door for Charlie."

Katherine drew herself up, her eyes snapping, and her cheeks high with color.

"That would be best, I'm sure," she said, and, with a nod, she stepped away.

Scott went back to where Johnny waited. "Ready?" he asked.

"More than ready," Johnny said.

As they walked back towards the entryway, Johnny asked, "How did it go with the dragon lady?"

Instead of reproving Johnny for his insulting title for Katherine, Scott said, "If she could have breathed fire

and destroyed me just then, I think she might have done it."

L


	18. Hard floor

Johnny had gone on, to wait outside the house and hail a horse-cab, to take them back to the hotel. Scott waited by the

front entryway, and within only a matter of a few minutes, Charlie came flying down the stairs.

She was dressed, yet again, in Teresa's overalls, and carrying a traveling bag and her hat that Johnny had given her.

"Let's go!" she urged Scott, reaching around him to yank the front door open.

"Alright, alright," Scott said, amused at her excitement.

The cab was waiting outside, Johnny standing beside it.

"Hullo, Johnny!" Charlie greeted him with gladness, and again, Johnny felt a pang of remorse for being so rough with her

earlier.

"Hi there, pequeno," he returned the greeting.

Once all in, and on their way back to the hotel, Charlie asked where they were going for supper.

"We hadn't planned on supper," Scott told her. "Since you were eating with your aunt and her guests."

"I didn't eat, though!" Charlie protested. "At least I didn't eat much. I was waiting to eat with you and Johnny!"

"Oh," Scott said, and looked to the other seat at his brother. "Well, alright. I imagine we can get something at

the hotel restaurant."

"And pie with ice cream," she reminded them. "Johnny said we should have pie with ice cream."

Charlie kept up her bouncing energy, her high spirits, until after they'd gone to the restaurant at the hotel, and

Charlie had consumed a meal of ham steak and mashed potatoes that would have done a lumberjack proud. After which,

the three of them had the aforementioned pie and ice cream.

Charlie tucked into her own blackberry pie, and peered in interest at Scott's apple pie, and Johnny's peach.

"You should have gotten blackberry," she told them.

"The peach is just fine," Johnny said.

After they'd gone up the stairs to the room, and Charlie was in her ankle-length nightgown, and had been reminded by Scott

to wash her face, she looked around the room.

"It's a nice room," she said. "I didn't get a chance to notice when we were here earlier."

At the unplanned mention of the afternoon incident that she'd been involved in, Charlie looked at them, obviously regretting

her quick words, as both men gave her their full attention with raised brows.

"I'm telling the truth," she said, in a small voice, looking at Scott tremulously. "About not throwing any rocks."

"Well, we'll talk about that later," Scott told her, going over to one of the beds. "It's late. Time for bed."

Charlie went obediently over as he pulled the sheets and quilts down. She climbed up onto the tall bed, and settled herself

under the covers. Scott pulled his shirt loose from his waist and let the shirttail hang. He went to his bag setting on the

table and rummaged thru it, pulling out the now-familiar book of Ivanhoe.

Charlie sat up in the bed, crossing her legs, her face lighting up in expectation.

Without saying anything more Scott sat down on the edge of the bed that Charlie occupied, and began to read, beginning

where they'd left off.

Eventually, as she always did, Charlie found her way closer to Scott's side, leaning her cheek against his arm. Johnny, lounging in

a half-sitting position on the other bed, listened too, and watched his brother and the small brown-eyed girl. Struck by the unspoken

but obvious bond between the two of them, Johnny stayed quiet, until he, too, became drawn into the words that Scott read.

When Scott closed the book in a sign that the reading was complete for the evening, Charlie gave a little sigh and looked up at

Scott again. Scott met her look, but said only, "Get under the blanket now," and held it back so Charlie could resituate herself.

Before lying down, she hesitated, as if unsure, and Scott took over, wrapping his arm around her in a hug. Charlie clung

to him for a long few moments, and Scott patted her back, eventually breaking the embrace.

"Lay down," he said, and Charlie huddled under the quilt. "Where are you going to sleep?" she asked him, looking worried.

"I'll bed down on the floor," he told her, and immediately she looked stricken.

"I don't want you to sleep on the hard floor," she protested.

"It'll be fine," Scott told her. "I've slept in plenty of worse places."

Charlie still looked worried, wrinkling up her forehead, and Johnny offered, "I'll take the floor."

"I said I would, and I will," Scott said. "It's not a problem."

"How about we arm wrestle for it?" Johnny suggested, winking at Charlie.

"And winner takes the floor?" Scott asked, tongue in cheek. "In that case, I'll let you win right out of the gate."

Johnny grinned, and Scott began to gather blankets and extra pillows.

"I am considerably younger than you, you know," Johnny reminded him, and the two brothers scuffled playfully

for a couple of moments, which made Charlie giggle out loud.

Eventually Charlie dropped off to sleep, and Scott could tell that Johnny had too, by the sound of his breathing. It took Scott

a considerably longer time to do the same. Not helped, he knew, by the hardness of the floor he was laying on. Not that

for one second he would ever admit such to his brother.

L


	19. Invisable sounds and Silent sights

It was sometime after midnight, when Scott was awakened by the sound of Charlie's voice, It wasn't loud, not by any means, but

Scott assumed he must have been in a light sleep, since her panicked sounding, "Scott!" was enough to wake him.

Before he could shake off his groggy feeling and answer, she was standing beside where he lay on the floor.

"Scott!" she said again, in a frantic whisper.

Scott half-sat up, leaning on his elbows. "What's wrong?" he asked her.

"There's somebody in the hallway!"

"What?" he asked, confused, and sitting the rest of the way up.

"There's a man in the hallway!"

Scott got to his feet, and put his hand on the back of her head, sensing his way in the darkness of the room.

"It's alright," he told her quietly, not sure what was troubling her.

"I heard him!" Charlie insisted.

"There's likely lots of folks still up, playing cards and such," Scott said, keeping his hand on the back of her head gently to urge her

back over to her bed.

"I don't mean that!" Charlie said, her whisper louder. "I heard him say my name!"

Scott went to the door, and started to open it, which proved to be a difficult task, with Charlie pulling on his arm.

"Don't, Scott!" Charlie protested.

"I'm just going to take a look," he began, but she pulled at his arm with what Scott thought was all her strength.

"No! He'll see you!" she said.

"Shh," Scott reproved, not wanting Johnny to be awakened.

Too late. "What's goin' on?" Johnny asked, from his side of the room.

"A bad dream or something," Scott told him.

"Not a dream!" Charlie insisted. "I heard him! I did!" She sounded as if she was going to burst into tears.

Scott persevered and opened the door, with Charlie still hanging onto his arm, though she stepped behind him, as if thinking that the

mysterious "hallway" man was going to reach out and snatch her up.

The hallway, predictably, was empty. The lantern that provided light was flickering, and Scott stepped on out into the

hall, the carpet beneath his sock feet. Johnny was there beside him, shirtless, his pistol in his hand.

Looking up and down the hall, Scott said, "Nobody here," to Charlie, who was just inside the door.

"I'll take a look around," Johnny said, and went out into the hall, walking towards the downstairs staircase.

Scott left the door open long enough to utilize the hallway light, taking advantage of it to see to light a lamp. He adjusted the

wick, so the light half-filled the room. Then he turned towards Charlie, who was still standing in the same spot, one hand clenched around

the bed's iron post.

He went to sit on the edge of the bed she'd been sleeping in, and said, "Somebody was being loud after having a few drinks too

many in a card game downstairs."

Charlie gave him a look, her eyes wide. "I heard him," she insisted again.

"Come here," Scott told her, and she came immediately, the short few feet to where he sat. Scott put an arm around her waist,

pulling her closer to his side.

"It's alright," he said, intending to be comforting.

"You don't believe me!" she accused, and Scott could tell she was winding up the way that she tended to do. She was trembling.

"Charlie-" he began.

"Listen, Scott!" she said, her voice rising. "It wasn't a dream, and it wasn't some drunk card-player! You have to listen to me!"

Scott pulled her to sit on his knee, his arm holding her in place.

"Alright," he said. "Settle down a little bit. Let's sit here for a few minutes and get your bearings back."

When she began to utter another protest, he said firmly, "Shhh. Just relax a minute."

Charlie took a deep gasp of air, her breath shuddering.

Johnny came back in then, closing the door behind him.

"See anything?" Scott asked him.

"No." Johnny went to place his pistol back into the gun belt hanging from the bed post. "It's all quiet downstairs. Clerk says nobody's

come up this way that he saw."

"That can't be," Charlie protested, though not as strongly as before.

Johnny stood there, looking concerned.

"He said my name," Charlie insisted again.

"What did he say, exactly?" Johnny asked her.

"He-" Charlie paused. "He said something about money, not enough money, and then he said Charlotte. And then he said something else

that I couldn't hear."

Scott and Johnny exchanged a quick glance. "Was there more than one man's voice?" Johnny asked her.

"I don't know. I don't think so," Charlie said.

She was still trembling, and Scott gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Well, whoever it was is gone now," he said.

"He might come back, though," Charlie fretted.

"If he did, we wouldn't let him near you," Scott said, He wasn't certain just what it was that Charlie had heard, or thought that she'd heard,

but he knew that the child's trembling and fear were genuine. He'd had some nightmares of his own, but none that, once he woke, that he

still believed was happening at that moment. Charlie seemed to believe that she'd really heard someone in the hallway.

"That's right," Johnny said, with a smile at Charlie. "We'd never let anybody near you."

He reached out and tweaked Charlie's nose. "You trust me, don't you, pequeno?"

"Yes," Charlie said.

"And we're going to keep the door locked, too," Scott added.

Johnny reached over and fastened the lock latch. "There we go," he said.

"Alright?" Scott asked, trying to sound reassuring.

Charlie nodded, but still looked frightened.

Johnny went over to lay down on his bed, his arms folded under his head.

"Get back under the quilt," Scott told her, and Charlie reluctantly left his lap to crawl onto the bed. After she was tucked in, he sat beside

her, with her clutching onto his hand.

He reached over to turn down the lamp, and Charlie squeezed his hand harder.

"Can't you leave it on? Please?" she asked.

Scott turned it down so that there was a glimmer of light left. "How's that?" he asked her. "Alright?"

"Yes."

"Try to go to sleep," Scott said softly.

"I won't be able to," Charlie insisted.

"Try to quiet your mind," he told her.

"How do I do that?" Charlie asked, perplexed.

"Just focus on breathing in and out. Think of something that makes you feel happy."

Charlie nodded, but said, with an anxious tone to her voice, "Why would a man be looking for me? And here, in the nighttime?"

Still not certain that the child had really heard what she thought that she had, Scott hesitated, wanting to choose his words with care.

"I don't know why he would be," he said, keeping his voice calm and quiet, "But he's not there now. And Johnny and I are here with you. Nothing's

going to happen."

An hour or more passed before Charlie finally went to sleep. Scott sat there until she did, because she wanted him to. She started a couple of

different times to reintroduce the subject of the mysterious man in the hallway, but both times Scott told her firmly to hush.

Scott was up early the next morning, quietly dressed so as not to wake Johnny and Charlie. Then he made his way downstairs, where he bought

a newspaper, and then went back up to the room.

Johnny was up by now, and splashing cold water from the pitcher onto his face.

"You're up early," Johnny said, his voice low.

"Yeah," Scott said, going to lay the newspaper on the night table. A quick look at Charlie confirmed that she wasn't even

beginning to stir.

"Kid's exhausted," Johnny volunteered.

"I'll let her sleep awhile longer," Scott said. "The stage doesn't leave until after nine anyway."

Johnny nodded. "I'm gonna step out, walk around a bit," he said.

Scott nodded, and when Johnny had gone, closing the door softly behind him, Scott picked up the newspaper and, shaking it out, went to sit

on the edge of the bed.

Involved in an article in the paper, he lowered it when he heard the rustling of the quilt, and looked at Charlie, sitting up.

She was rubbing at one eye with the palm of her hand, and looked at Scott.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," she echoed. She looked around the room. "Is it late?"

"No. It's not late."

"Where's Johnny?" she asked.

"Out walking around a bit."

"Oh." Charlie swung the quilt back and sat up, her feet dangling off the high bed.

Scott folded the newspaper. "Get dressed, and then we'll go have some breakfast before the stage leaves."

Charlie nodded. She looked at Scott, and seemed hesitant.

"I'm sorry I woke you up last night."

"It's alright," he said, and smiled at her.

"It was scary," Charlie said, in a small voice.

Before Scott could decide just what to say to comfort her, and keep her from getting all wound up again, Charlie slid down from

the bed, and said, "I remember something else that man said now."

L


	20. Stage depot talk

Scott stood up. "Why don't you go and get dressed for the day?" he suggested, not immediately answering Charlie's statement

about the man in the hall.

Charlie pushed herself down from the high bed. "He said my name. But he didn't say it correctly."

"Get your clothes," Scott told her, gesturing towards the overnight bag they'd brought from Katherine's.

Charlie turned back, reaching into the bag and pulling out a plain, brown dress, and stockings, still talking.

"He said Charlotte," she went on. "But he didn't say Bays. He said Burch. Charlotte Burch."

"Get dressed," Scott said, giving her a gentle push towards the washroom. "And brush your hair."

Charlie paused at the door of the small washroom. "Did you hear me?" she asked, sounding worried. "He said-"

"Yes, I heard you," Scott said. "Let's concentrate on getting ready, so we can have some breakfast."

After he'd succeeded in getting Charlie started in her morning routine, Scott began gathering things up around the

room, putting his own, and Charlie's belongings into the overnight bags.

He was done with that, when Johnny came back into the room, eating something crunchy.

"What is that?" Scott demanded, raising his eyebrows at the sound of the crunching.

"Lady downstairs is sellin' cookies," Johnny told him. "Taste as though they're more than a few days old."

"Then why are you eating it?" Scott reasoned.

"Because. I paid twenty cents for it. So I'm gonna eat it."

Scott shook his head at his brother, as Charlie came out of the washroom. "My hair's all tangled," she said. "Will you brush

it for me, Scott?"

"Yes. I'll brush it. Put your nightgown in your bag first."

Charlie went to stuff her nightgown into the bag carelessly, leaving it hanging half-out.

"Do it neatly," Scott told her.

Charlie heaved a sigh, but went obediently back to the bed, taking the nightgown, folding it, and then tucking it into the

bag in an orderly way.

"Good morning, Johnny," she said.

"Mornin', pequeno."

Scott sat down on the edge of the bed that Charlie had slept in, and beckoned to her with his hand.

"Bring your brush," he said, and Charlie came over, handing the hairbrush to him, handle first.

She turned around, and Scott began to brush out the long, auburn hair. After a moment of arduous brushing, Scott

said, "When was the last time you gave your hair a good brushing?"

Charlie gave a shrug. "Yesterday, I guess."

"Not yesterday," Scott denied.

"The day before, maybe," Charlie admitted.

Scott worked on with the brushing, and Charlie put a hand back to lean on his knee.

"Don't you think it's strange," she asked, "That he would know my first name, but use Katherine's last name?"

Johnny met Scott's eye behind the child's head, his eyebrow raised in question. Scott gave a slight shake of his own head.

"Don't you, Scott?" Charlie asked, twisting to look at him.

"Turn around," Scott said, and Charlie obediently turned her back to him again.

"Don't you?" she insisted.

"Yes. I do," Scott said, finishing the brushing, and fastening the curls into a tight braid. "There you go," he said, holding out

the hairbrush.

Charlie took the brush from him, turning to face him, her big eyes wide and questioning, and reaching back to finger her braid.

"I think maybe he wants to kidnap me or something," Charlie offered, obviously anxious.

"I don't think so," Scott said, trying to sound calm.

"We wouldn't let anybody near ya," Johnny told her, from his side of the room, where he was fastening on his gunbelt.

"Well-but maybe he might catch me when the two of you aren't around," Charlie worried on. "Even if I fight him,

I might not be able to get away-"

Scott had heard enough. He hadn't even had the comfort of a cup of coffee yet this morning.

"Stop," he said, with finality, and a bit of curtness. Charlie stopped talking, looking at him with an injured expression.

Scott turned to his brother. "Will you get us checked out? We'll meet you down in the lobby in a couple of minutes."

"Sure," Johnny said.

When he'd gone, the door closing softly behind him, Scott turned his attention back to Charlie.

"Why are you angry with me?" Charlie asked him, looking hurt.

"I'm not angry with you. I do want you to listen to me, though." He pulled her closer, an arm around her waist.

"I believe that you heard something, or think that you heard something, last night in the hallway." Scott began.

"I did!" Charlie protested.

"I'm talking," Scott told her. "You need to be still."

Charlie looked properly chastised, and subsided, watching him with wide eyes.

"I'm not sure just what, or who, you heard, and I know it was frightening to you. Late at night like that, and all. But, I

promise you that whoever it was is gone now, and even if they were to be around somewhere, they wouldn't attempt anything

with Johnny and I here."

He paused, looking over her face, and then said, "We'll keep you safe. I promise."

When Charlie looked at him solemnly, Scott reached out to smooth a few strands of hair back from her face that he'd missed

putting into the braid.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yes, Scott," she said, in earnestness.

"Alright. Then what I want you to do is, try your very hardest to not worry or think about it. Alright?"

Charlie nodded again.

"I think we should get downstairs, so we'll be ready to board the stage. Are you ready for some breakfast?" he asked.

"I'm hungry."

Taking their bags, they went out of the room, heading down the staircase. In the lobby, Johnny was waiting, leaning against the

wall near the front door. He straightened up as Scott and Charlie came up to him.

"Let's find some breakfast," Johnny said. "My stomach's so empty it's gnawing on my backbone."

"Well, then, by all means, let's go," Scott said, with a smile at Charlie. "We wouldn't Johnny to succumb to starvation, or anything like that, would we?"

"No," Charlie said, with a returned smile.

They went down the street, and to the same restaurant that Scott and Johnny had eaten at the evening before.

Settling into the chairs at an empty table, Scott asked Charlie what she wanted to eat.

"Pancakes?" Charlie requested.

"And some bacon?" Scott asked her.

"Yes, please," Charlie said, and closed the menu in front of her.

After the waitress had come to take their orders, and then brought two coffees and a glass of milk, Johnny turned towards Charlie.

"Are you ready to see your horse?" he asked her.

"Yes!" she said, her eyes bright.

"How ready are you?" Johnny teased.

"Really, really ready!" Charlie promised.

"Well, he's at Lancer, waitin' for you to get home," Johnny said.

"Can I ride him today?" Charlie asked, looking at both of them eagerly.

"What do you think, Scott?" Johnny asked, twirling a matchstick between his fingers. "Should we let her ride today, or make her wait

a while?"

"I know you're only teasing me, Johnny," Charlie said.

"Oh, you think so, huh?" Johnny asked, and leaned over to tug her braid gently.

"Can we go for a really long ride?" Charlie asked then.

"Today maybe you ought to take it easy, stay around a little closer. Since you're gonna be just gettin' used to one another."

"Are you teasing again?" Charlie asked.

"No. I'm serious about this," Johnny said.

"Oh" Charlie said, looking disappointed.

"Before you know it, you'll be ridin' across the county," Johnny assured her.

They ate their breakfast, and went to wait for time to board the stage. Johnny grew impatient, and bored, and walked up and down

the street. Charlie sat beside Scott on a bench outside the ticket office. It was already growing hot, and Charlie pushed her bangs up from

her forehead, and when she was done, stray hairs were sticking up.

Scott smiled a little, almost to himself. She looked so much like a little girl at that moment. Even the few freckles that dotted

across her nose were more pronounced today.

"I'm excited to see Murdoch," Charlie said. "And Teresa. And Maria."

"Everybody, huh?" Scott asked.

"Yes." Charlie leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "I missed them all."

She sounded a little plaintive, and Scott moved his shoulder a bit so that it nudged her cheek.

"You were missed, too," he said softly.

Charlie turned her face slightly to look up at him. "Truly?" she asked.

"Truly."

Charlie rested her cheek back against his arm. "That's nice," she said.

After a couple of moments, she asked, "How long can I stay?"

"A couple of weeks."

Charlie sighed. "Katherine's talking about sending me away to boarding school in the fall."

Scott felt a twinge, near where his heart was, but he tried not to show any reaction.

"Is she?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm not going to go, though."

Her tone was definite, on the cusp of being defiant, but Scott let it slide for the moment. He should, he knew, point out that she had

no choice in the matter whatsoever, but he figured that Charlie knew that already. She was merely projecting her 'tough' demeanor.

"What school does she want you to go to?" he asked instead.

"Someplace in Denver."

"Denver," Scott said, almost to himself, thinking how far away that really was.

"It's supposed to be some 'hoity toity' school, that guarantees to make a lady out of a sow's ear," Charlie said,

in derision.

His own sudden anger caught Scott by surprise. He took her wrist in his hand, and she lifted her cheek from his

shoulder. "Did she say that to you?" he asked.

"What?" Charlie asked, looking confused. She recognized the tone of anger in his voice.

"Did she say it, that way?"

"You mean a sow's ear?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. That's what I mean. Did she?" he demanded.

"Well," Charlie looked thoughtful, "Yes. Something like that."

"Not something like that. She either used those words or she didn't."

"Yes. She used those words," Charlie said, looking at him, partly in curiousity and somewhat in alarm.

Instead of verbalizing the swear oath that he wanted to, Scott sat back against the bench, and tried mightily to rein his

temper in.

"What's wrong, Scott?" Charlie asked, looking anxious.

"I'm alright," he said, in answer, trying to smile at her.

"You're angry," she said, in statement.

"Yes. I am. But not at you."

"Oh," Charlie said, looking at him.

Scott sat against the back of the bench again, and forced himself to mask his anger.

"Why does that make you so angry?" Charlie asked, still regarding him with anxious eyes.

"Because. It's not a kind thing to say. She shouldn't have said it to you."

Charlie looked contemplative, and then settled back against him again, taking one of his hands in hers, and running her thumb over

his knuckles, almost absent-mindedly.

"Why is she thinking of the boarding school in Denver?" Scott asked. "Do you know?"

"Probably because it's the furthest away," Charlie said, matter-of-fact, and Scott felt another twinge in his

heart region.

Whether he agreed or not, he thought he should gather some semblance of reason to the topic.

"Surely not," he said. "Probably it's a fine school, and that's what she wants for you."

Without looking at him, and without halting in her inspection of his hand, Charlie said, "You don't really think that. I know you

don't." Her tone was quiet, not sassy or disrespectful. More of a statement. Still, Scott felt compelled to make a gesture of

denial.

"Charlie-" he began.

"What happened here?" she asked, running her thumb over the scar across two of his fingers.

Scott looked at the age-old wound. "A knife slipped."

"Was it very bad?" she asked.

"Bad enough," he said dryly.

"How old were you?"

"Twelve."

"Oh." Charlie paused in her inspection, to look up at him. "What were you trying to do? I mean, what's the story behind it?"

"Not much a story," Scott said. "I was doing something I shouldn't have been doing. I wasn't practicing any caution, and so, I got

cut."

"Hmm," Charlie said, looking thoughtful.

She looked as though she was going to say something else, but the sounds of the approaching stage, horses hooves thundering, could

be heard.

L


	21. Misconception

The stagecoach was filled to capacity, and unfortunately, at least as far as Scott was concerned, one of the other passengers happened

to be a woman who talked. And talked. And talked some more.

Johnny, who appeared unaffected by the non-stop chatter, leaned back and took a nap. Since one of the men traveling rebuffed any attempts

to pull him into conversation, that left the second woman and Scott to contend with the talker.

It wouldn't be so bad, Scott thought to himself, if the woman was attempting conversation about something of value. But, to him, it seemed

like meaningless, nonsense words. However, because he'd been raised to be a gentleman, he answered her questions with politeness, trying not to

show his irritation. He wanted to be left alone, in quiet, for the remainder of the ride. Sleeping, or attempting to sleep, on the hotel floor the

night before, had resulted in a backache and a feeling of fatigue.

Eventually, the second woman seemed to tire, also, and turned her attention to reading a book that she took from her valise.

Before he even quite realized what was happening, Charlie was engaged in conversation with the chatty woman. Scott sat back a little,

watching, and listening. Charlie was respectful, and articulate in her answers to the woman. Scott closed his eyes, thinking that he could rest now

without appearing to be rude, though he was still keeping a casual ear to the conversation between the woman and Charlie.

When the conversation turned to more personal things, and the female passenger asked Charlie her name, she

said politely, "Charlotte."

"That's a beautiful name."

Instead of her usual laments about her name, Charlie said only, "Thank you."

When one of the next few questions was about Scott, as in, "And you're traveling with? Is this your brother?"

Just the slightest hesitation on Charlie's part. Scott had to admit that he was curious about what she might say.

"No. He's not my brother," Charlie said, slowly.

"Oh, my. Your father, then? My goodness, he's young to be your father."

A longer hesitation from Charlie this time. Scott, feeling as though he should break the pretense that he was napping, and

come to Charlie's rescue somewhat, heard Charlie say, "Yes. He's pretty young."

And she didn't correct the mistaken assumption about him being her father. Something inside of him tugged, emotion-laden.

Thinking now how awkward it would be if he were to suddenly let his eyes pop open, he kept them closed.

"And your mother? She's waiting for you at home?" the woman questioned on.

"My mother died," Charlotte said, in truth.

"Oh, poor little one," the woman said, clucking her tongue in sympathy.

Somehow, even with his eyes closed, Scott knew with certainty that Charlie was looking up at him. Most likely, to see if he

was truly napping, or possibly listening to this conversation.

"And you're traveling to your home?"

"To the ranch," Charlie stated. And at this, Charlie launched into a vivid expression of Lancer, and how beautiful that it was, rolling green hills, and

the cattle, with their large gentle eyes. And the smell of the hay in the barn, and how the barn loft was the best place to play

with kittens. And about Murdoch, and how learned of a man that he was, and kind. She talked as if her words were

something like a poem in a book.

"It sounds as though you have a wonderful home," the woman said.

After a pause, Charlie said, "The ranch is the most wonderful place on earth."

"He seems like he's a fine man," the woman said, and Scott assumed she was referring to himself.

"He's the finest man that I know," Charlie said, fervently, and Scott felt another one of those heart-wrenching moments.

The stage was rounding a curve, and jerking more than a bit. Scott sat up, straighter, opening his eyes, and immediately he

sensed the change in Charlie. She looked up at him, her face guilty.

"Our journey's nearly over," the woman said, with a smile at Scott.

"Yes, ma'm."

"I've been having a lovely talk with your young lady here," she went on.

Scott had no intention of disclosing that he'd heard the majority of the conversation. At least, not at that moment. He wouldn't embarrass

Charlie that way.

"Good," he said, in response.

When the stage pulled up, and came to a jerking halt, the passengers began to disembark. Scott had to give Johnny a nudge to wake

him.

When he'd stepped down, Scott reached up to lift Charlie to the ground. She stood beside him, as he helped the other two women

down, as well.

The driver tossed their bags down, and the woman straightened her dress, and smiled warmly at both Scott and Charlie.

"You helped the time pass much more pleasantly," she said to Charlie, shaking her hand. "I enjoyed your company today."

"Thank you," Charlie said, quietly.

The woman held her hand out to Scott as well. "You have a lovely little girl," she complimented.

Scott didn't miss the way that Charlie's eyes went to him immediately, looking anxious. She was watching him, obviously concerned about what

he was going to say.

Scott extended his own hand to the woman, shaking it. "She's very special," he said simply, genuinely, not correcting any

misconception about Charlie being his daughter. He was rewarded by Charlie's full smile, dimples and all.

When the woman had gone, walking on down the sidewalk towards the rooming house, Scott picked up his own bag.

"There's Murdoch," Johnny said, with a gesture across the street, reaching for his own bag.

"Oh," Charlie said, and promptly ran across the street, and in her eagerness to see Murdoch, leaving her own bag sitting there on the ground beside the stage.

Both brothers were walking across and in time to see Charlie run to Murdoch, calling to him gladly. Seeing, also, their father

turn to catch the little girl in his arms.

"Think he missed the kid," Johnny observed.

"Looks like it," Scott agreed.

Once headed home, back to Lancer, Charlie sat on the wagon seat, between Scott and Murdoch, while Johnny settled against

the feed sacks in the back.

The conversation was mostly about what had transpired at the ranch the last two days, and with Murdoch sharing the fact

that Teresa had had a young man from town as her dinner guest the evening before.

"Who is it?" Johnny asked.

"Cole Irvin," Murdoch said.

"Humph," Johnny said in response. "I don't know him."

"He's a fine young man," Murdoch said.

"Where did she meet him?" Scott asked.

"At a party that Lucinda and her parents held earlier in the month."

"Why'd she wait until Scott and I were gone to have him to supper?" Johnny demanded. "Like as if she knows we wouldn't take to

him."

"You'll have to talk to her about that," Murdoch said mildly.

"Oh, I will, believe me," Johnny said.

"Don't give her too difficult of a time about it," Murdoch cautioned. "I think she really cares for this young man."

"Well, we'll see," Johnny said, sounding ominous, and Scott had to smile a little, meeting his father's eyes.

"You look tired, son," Murdoch observed.

"I'll be alright after a good night's sleep," Scott told him.

"Scott had to sleep on the floor last night," Charlie shared.

"Well, we'll have to see that he gets to bed early tonight then, won't we?" Murdoch said, smiling at her.

Charlie nodded, smiling in return.

"How have you been doing on your studies?" Murdoch asked Charlie. "Keeping up with them?"

Charlie looked a little embarrassed, but she met Murdoch's gaze.

"I've been reading the books you let me borrow," she said.

"That's good."

"I like the one, 'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer', I like that one the best," Charlie went on.

"After supper this evening, you may read to me for awhile," Murdoch told her.

"Yes," Charlie said, looking happy. "I'd like to do that."

"What about your mathematics?" Murdoch went on. "Did you study that?"

"Not so much," Charlie said, vaguely. Then she looked at Murdoch, and said, more clearly, "No. Sir. I didn't."

She went on, "It's just hard to get excited about all those numbers."

"Well, we'll work on it a bit each day," Murdoch told her.

"Alright," Charlie said, not sounding thrilled.

"You've been staying busy, though?" Murdoch asked her then. "Finding things to occupy yourself?"

Charlie's cheeks flamed. She knew with both Scott and Johnny listening, that she had no choice but to tell the

truth of it.

She looked at her fingers, and said something that was in a mumble.

"What?" Murdoch asked.

When Charlie was still, Scott gave her knee a tap. "Murdoch asked you a question," he said.

"I said, some of the things I've done weren't the best," Charlie said, clearly, but still looking at her hands.

Murdoch looked at Scott, attuned to the fact that there was far more to the story.

"I see," he said.

"We'll be having a discussion about it," Scott said.

Charlie's eyes swept up to his face, and she looked anxious yet again.

When they reached the house, Jelly came walking from the barn to greet them.

"Decided to find your way back here, did ya?" he said to Charlie, as she jumped from the wagon to the ground.

"Hello, Jelly!" Charlie said, and gave the old man a sudden hug.

"Here now," Jelly said, flustered, but obviously pleased by the greeting, "Don't knock me off my feet."

"Have you been taking good care of the kittens, like you promised that you would?" she asked Jelly.

"I've been doin' as well as I'm able to," Jelly said, gruffly. "A body only has so much time in a day."

"But they're alright? Even the furry one?"

"They're just dandy. Always underfoot," Jelly blustered.

"Can I see my horse now?" Charlie asked, tugging at Johnny's hand.

"I suppose now's as good a time as any," Johnny said lazily.

When the long-awaited horse was brought up, Johnny insisted that Charlie hide her eyes until he appeared.

With fits of excited giggles, Charlie covered her eyes, and then put them down when instructed to do so.

Her eyes widened, and her face lit up with happiness. But, instead of speaking, she was silent, reaching her hand

out for the horse to smell.

"Well?" Johnny asked her.

Charlie only looked at him, seeming overcome with emotion, and then gave him a fierce hug around his waist.

"The kid's speechless," he said, sounding amused. "So, pequeno, do you like him or no?"

"I love him!" Charlie found her voice. "He's the most beautiful horse that I've ever seen!"

Only a few minutes later, the horse had been saddled, and Charlie was mounted, riding him around the large

corral, while the family of doting men sat atop the corral fence, watching her.

"She rides well," Murdoch said, in observation.

"She does," Scott agreed.

"Seems like a lot of horse for such a little gal," Jelly threw in.

"She can handle it," Johnny said, sounding confident.

After a time, Charlie cantered over to where they all sat. "He wants to really run," she said, sounding breathless. "I'd like to give him his

head."

"You're doin' fine," Johnny told her.

"Could we go for a ride, though?" she asked. "A real one?"

"Manana. Today is about the two of you gettin' acquainted, remember?" he said.

Charlie eyed him, and then said, in resignation, "Yes, Johnny."

Eventually the men went about their business. Jelly, back to his chores. Murdoch and Scott inside for a talk, while Johnny gave Charlie

a while longer to ride her new horse. After another hour had passed, he waved Charlie over to the fence.

"Let's get him cooled down, and groomed," Johnny told her.

"Already?" Charlie asked, in disappointment.

"Yeah. Already," he told her with a grin. "It's been near two hours since you got on his back, pequeno."

"Truly?" she asked, looking surprised. "It seems as though it's only been a few minutes."

"I understand that," Johnny said.

After Charlie had walked the horse until he was cooled, Charlie led him into the barn, and Johnny showed her how to brush him down, and

then the correct amount of oats to feed.

"It's your responsibility every day to brush him, make sure he eats, and has plenty of fresh water to drink," Johnny told her.

"I will, I promise," Charlie said. "And his feet, too, right? I need to keep watch on his feet? Like you told me?"  
"Yeah. That's right," Johnny said, with a pleased smile at her. "It's good that you remember."

"I want to take the very best care of him, the best that any horse has ever had," Charlie said, with fervent feeling. She pressed her face

against the horse's neck.

"What are you gonna call him?" Johnny asked, as he lifted the saddle up onto the saddle rack.

"I'm not sure," Charlie admitted. "I want it to be the best name for him. The perfect one."

"Well, you can think on it for awhile," Johnny said. "I think the man I bought him from called him Dandy, if you want to keep that."

"Do I have to?" she asked.

"Course not. He's your horse. You can call him whatever you want."

Charlie turned to look up at Johnny. "That's a silly name. I mean, such a special horse should have a name that's-" Charlie hesitated,

thinking. "A name that's dignified. Regal. Do you know what I mean?"

"I do," Johnny said, reaching out to run his hand down her cheek.

L


	22. Balm to spirit

After her time with her new horse, Charlie went to talk to Maria, who was busy cooking up an evening meal that would be

fit for a party.

After she'd talked to Maria and been indulged in fresh-baked cookies and a glass of milk, she went out to the barn,

to find the kittens.

This was were she was, still playing with the kittens, when Scott found her late in the afternoon.

He came into the barn, his eyes adjusting to the dimmer light after the sunshine. "Charlie?" he said.

"Here," she said, looking from a corner of a barn stall, where she was sitting on the hay-covered floor.

When he was standing next to the stall, Charlie said, "They've grown so much. They're not even really kittens anymore."

She looked up at him. "It makes me feel sort of sad. I mean, I missed the rest of the part of them being just little."

Scott crouched so that he was down near her, and ran his hand over the cat that she held.

"There will be more kittens," he said, with a certainty.

Charlie nodded. "I still like them, though," she said. "I didn't mean to sound as though I don't."

"I know you didn't."

After a moment, he said, "It's time for you to be getting a bath. Maria will have supper ready in an hour."

"Alright." Charlie gave her dress a rueful glance. "I think I might have ruined my dress."

"It's dirty alright," Scott agreed. "But I doubt if it's ruined."

"Do you think we could go to the mercantile and I could buy some pants?" Charlie asked, looking at him hopefully.

Before he could answer, Charlie talked on. "It would be better than dresses. To ride, and do chores, and-"

"We'll see about getting you some," Scott said.

"Okay."

Scott regarded her with a long glance. "It's been a long couple of days for you."

"I'm just glad to be here."

"Me, too," he said. When Charlie gave him a bright smile, Scott was tempted for a brief moment to not pursue

his discussion. Only for a moment.

"After you have a bath, and get changed, come find me. I want to talk to you."

Charlie immediately lost her sparkle. "Is it about me being with those kids?"

"Yes. That's what it's about."

"I know it was the wrong thing," she began. "I understand-"

"I'm glad you do. But we're still going to have a discussion about it."

Charlie drooped, putting the cat down gently. "It's gonna be one of those talking-to times, isn't it?"

Instead of replying to that, Scott said, "Come on now. Time to get cleaned up."

He stood up, and Charlie sighed, and got to her feet as well.

Once inside, he sent Charlie up the stairs, and went to sit in the quiet of his father's study, in a chair in a far corner, near the window.

Murdoch, coming in to sift thru papers on his desk, said, "Son. I didn't see you, sitting there."

"Just enjoying the quiet," Scott said.

Murdoch nodded in seeming understanding. "Sometimes the quiet is the balm to a man's spirit."

"Yes," Scott said, and took another drink from his glass of whiskey.

"Early for that, isn't it?" Murdoch observed mildly.

"I felt the need."

"Well, no harm in it," Murdoch said. He put down the paper he'd been holding in his hand, and went to the whiskey decanter,

and poured a half-glass. He came to sit across from Scott, and when Scott gave the drink in his hand an amused glance, Murdoch

smiled. "Since there's no harm, I thought I'd join you."

Scott raised his glass in acknowledgement.

After a couple of quiet moments, Murdoch spoke. "How is the child? On the surface, she seems fine."

Scott hesitated. "I think she's fine. Or as fine as she can be, at any rate."

At his father's questioning look, Scott added, "She doesn't have an easy time of things. With her aunt, and all."

Scott went on to tell Murdoch about the party the evening before at Katherine's home, where Charlie had been expected to stay

and converse with the banker and other adults. He shared a bit of the conversation that he, himself, had had with Mr. Beets.

After listening, Murdoch said, "He sounds attuned to the situation."

When Scott didn't reply, Murdoch said, "You don't agree?"

"It's not that I disagree, necessarily. He seems as though he's an honorable man. He appears to care for Charlie."

"What's your concern, then?" his father asked.

"That any man might be hard-pressed to believe negative of Katherine," Scott said bluntly.

"She's that attractive?" Murdoch asked.

"She is."

After a moment, Murdoch reminded his oldest son, "You're able to see what you believe is her true character, isn't that so?"

Scott nodded.

"Well, let's hope that Mr. Beets from the bank has the same ability," Murdoch said.

"Hopefully."

Murdoch studied Scott. "There's more," he said, and it was a statement more than a question.

"Yes," Scott affirmed. He told Murdoch about Johnny finding Charlie in the alley, running amuck with youngsters that

were obviously up to mischief.

"She says she wasn't tossing rocks, just going along with the crowd."

"Mmm," Murdoch said, looking serious.

"I approached it with her aunt. She was frank about not knowing how to handle Charlie."

"Perhaps she doesn't care enough to try," Murdoch suggested.

"I'm sure that's correct," Scott agreed. He finished off his drink. "I'm going to talk to her about it before supper."

"Know what you're going to say?" Murdoch asked. "Or do?"

"Johnny feels badly about how he handled it. For swatting her. He says he reacted, seeing her running with a group

doing that sort of property damage."

"He'd deny a tender heart," Murdoch said. "Though that's what he has."

Scott nodded, and sighed.

"So, what are your thoughts on what you're going to say?" Murdoch asked again.

"I'm not sure. I've been trying to decide," Scott admitted.

"Speak from your heart," Murdoch advised. "Your instinct is the best barometer."

Scott gave his father a long look.

"What is it, son?" Murdoch asked him. "You're truly troubled about something."

So Scott shared what had taken place on the stagecoach ride home, and how Charlie had given the lady traveler every

inclination to believe that she was his daughter.

"She did everything but say it outright," Scott said.

Murdoch again looked contemplative, swirling the remaining liquid in his glass. "There's no harm to that, surely."

"No."

Sensing Scott's hesitation, Murdoch prompted, "But?"

"But. It worries me. She seems to be so invested in all of us. And the ranch. She's vulnerable. If Katherine should

take it into her head to withdraw permission for her to visit, well-" Scott hesitated. "She'd be so hurt."

"She would," Murdoch agreed.

"Maybe it would have been better, if I hadn't interfered with things, that day at the train depot. If she hadn't gotten

to know all of us," Scott said, his voice trailing off.

Murdoch was silent. He was quiet for so long that Scott thought he wasn't going to reply at all. When he finally did, though,

his voice was gruff. "You don't believe that, son. Not for a moment do you believe that."

Scott met his father's eyes. Then, with a heavy sigh, he said, "No. Sir. I don't."

L


	23. Talking

Scott and Murdoch had completed the somber part of their conversation, and gone on to discuss other things. The cow who had delivered

a rare set of twins. The way the wildflowers looked growing on the hill. Such as that.

They paused in their conversation when they heard a small voice at the doorway.

"Excuse me," Charlie said.

Both men looked up to see her standing there, wearing a pale yellow dress, simple in its lack of adornment, her hair hanging loose. It was

only when she stepped on into the room that Scott saw her bare feet.

"Sweetheart," Murdoch greeted her, his voice warm. "Come in." He held out his arm to her, and Charlie came immediately over to

where he sat, taking his outstretched hand in hers.

"You look lovely," he told her.

"I wanted to wear my overalls, but Maria said they had to be washed before I can wear them again," Charlie told him, sounding

regretful.

"Well, I like this dress," Murdoch said. "I like it very much."

"Thank you."

Charlie looked from Murdoch to Scott, and then away.

Sensing the child's apprehension, Murdoch gave her hand a pat. "I'll go and round Johnny up for supper," he said, standing to his

considerable height. He smiled at Charlie kindly, and left the room.

Charlie stood there, beside the chair that Murdoch had vacated, looking at Scott in trepidation.

Scott sensed that reluctance on her part, and reached out to pull a nearby footstool to the spot in front of his chair.

"Come and sit here," he said, patting the footstool.

Charlie came, and sat down, swiping her hands on the yellow dress.

"Where are your shoes?" Scott asked.

"In the kitchen. It's so hot to mess with stockings-" Charlie began, and then let her voice trail off. "Do you want me to go put them on?" she asked.

"No. Not right now." He surveyed Charlie with a serious expression.

"Tell me about what happened. When you were with the other kids," he said.

For a moment Charlie looked surprised, and Scott knew it was because he was beginning the discussion with that sort of

question.

"You mean, just at the time when Johnny saw me? Or before that?" she asked.

"All of it," he said.

"Well. We were together at the fountain, and then some of the kids said they were hungry, so we went uptown to the

stores. And a few of them were taking apples from the front of the mercantile."

She paused, looking at Scott, obviously reluctant to continue.

"Go on," he said.

"One of the boys threw a rock, and it broke a window. So they were all running, up and down the alleys. And the shopkeepers

were coming out, and yelling."

Scott was silent, and Charlie's face burned in embarrassment. "I know it was the wrong thing, Scott!"

"How many kids are there? In this group?" he asked, not responding to her fervent comment.

"It just depends. Sometimes seven or eight."

"Sometimes more?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow.

With reluctance, Charlie nodded. "Sometimes."

"How many more? At the most?"

Charlie looked considering. "Twelve."

"Mostly boys? Or an equal amount of girls?"

"Mostly boys. A few girls," Charlie said, and Scott could tell she was wondering why he was asking about such things.

"What else do they get up to? Besides snitching apples and breaking windows?"

Charlie looked at him, uncomfortable in his scrutiny. She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug.

"That's not an answer," Scott told her.

"They just-mess about," Charlie said, in vague description.

Scott gave a sigh, and leaned back a bit in the chair, surveying Charlie.

"We can do this discussion another time," he said. "When you're ready to be honest with me."

Unsure of just what he meant by 'another time', at first Charlie felt hopeful. Then, listening to the second half of his

comment, she looked at Scott, dejected.

"I'm being honest, Scott! I am!" she declared.

"No. Not totally, you're not," he denied. "You're answering what you want to answer, but no more than that. And that disappoints me. It

really does."

Scott kept his tone calm. Firm, but calm, and he allowed a certain amount of that disappointment that he spoke of to mix in as well. He'd played

a bluff, banking on the bond that he and Charlie had begun to forge together. And that bluff played off, because Charlie's big eyes

filled with swift tears, and she looked as though she was nearly distraught.

"I'm sorry!" she burst out, and covered her face with her hands, crying. Muffled by her hands, he thought he caught the words,

"Want," and "Honest".

He reached into his shirt pocket for his handkerchief, and brought it out, leaning forward again.

"Take your hands away from your face," he said calmly.

Charlie lowered her hands, looking miserable. Scott wiped her eyes, and her cheeks. Then he gave her another full-on

look, keeping the stern expression.

"Why tears?" he asked her.

"I-don't, I just don't want you to-be disappointed in me!"

"Well. What do you need to do, then?" he pointed out.

Still fighting tears, Charlie said, "Answer you. And not try to keep anything out."

"That's right." He laid the handkerchief on her lap, and Charlie picked it up, twisting it in her hands.

"So, again," Scott said, "What else do this gang of kids do?"

Charlie took a deep breath. "Sometimes they steal from the stores. From inside the stores, I mean. Candy, sometimes, when the

store clerk isn't watching. Once one of the boys took a pair of shoes."

"Mmmm," Scott said. After a pause, he said, "What about at people's homes?"

Charlie blinked at him, looking startled.

"Window breaking at houses?" Scott prompted.

"No, Scott. Not when I was with them."

He surveyed her steadily, and saw the truth as it came tumbling out of her. "One time they did let all the chickens out of

their pen at this one house."

"Uh huh," Scott said.

Charlie was quiet then, just twisting the handkerchief, and watching him.

"Have you stolen from the stores?" he asked.

Charlie shook her head. "No. Not even once."

Scott sat back a little in the chair, clasping his hands behind his head. He was quiet, looking thoughtful.

Uncomfortable under that gaze, Charlie said, "I don't steal, Scott. I wouldn't."

"Why do you go?" he asked.

"What?" Charlie asked, looking puzzled.

"Why do you go?" he asked, again. "With those kids?"

A totally unexpected question. Charlie looked shocked that he would ask such a question.

"I-" she hesitated. "Because it's fun, sometimes. It gets boring at Katherine's house. The hours are so long. It's lonely," she finished.

"Alright. But why not be with other kids? Do you have other friends?" he asked.

"Not really. The girls that Katherine wants me to be around-all they care about are new dresses, or dancing school."

"There has to be kids that are somewhere in between those two extremes," Scott said. "Maybe you're just not trying hard enough

to find them."

"Maybe," Charlie admitted.

"What is this fountain that you're talking about?" he asked.

"It's at an old part of the park. Not many people go there anymore."

There was quiet for a long few moments, and then Charlie said quietly. "The boy that took the shoes from the store? He

took them because his were worn clear thru the toes. He lives with his grandma, and there's not a lot of money."

"That's a sad situation," Scott said, in acknowledgement. "Right now, though, my concern is with you, and what could

happen if you continue doing this sort of thing."

"I won't do it anymore, Scott," Charlie said earnestly. "I promised Johnny that I wouldn't. And I'll promise it to you, too. I won't go

out with them anymore."

"That's an easy promise to make," Scott said, lowering his arms from behind his head. "Right here. Right now. Back in Stockton again,

with your aunt, it will be a lot harder to keep the promise."

Charlie looked distressed for a moment, biting at her lower lip. "I'll keep it, Scott, I promise that I will!"

"Well," Scott said slowly, as if he was considering, "Alright. I'll expect you to do that."

"Yes," Charlie said, nodding her head and looking relieved.

"Here's what we're going to do now," Scott said. "We're going to go have supper in a few minutes. Maria's gone to quite a lot of

effort to make it special."

That brought a smile to Charlie's face. She obviously thought that their discussion was nearly to an end.

"Then, as soon as supper's over, you'll go up to your room, and stay there for the rest of the evening," Scott said.

"What?" Charlie asked, confused.

Continuing on, as though she hadn't spoken, Scott said, "I'm going to give you some paper. I want you to write out how the

shopkeepers are harmed by this sort of thing. When their windows are broken, and when they're stolen from."

"You mean like a report?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. Like a report."

"And then, when I'm finished with it, I can come back downstairs?" Charlie asked.

"No. Staying in your room until time for bed is part of your punishment," Scott said.

Charlie looked startled, then distressed again. "I mean it about keeping my promise, Scott."

"That's good. That would make me very happy. But you're still going to have a punishment."

"On my first night back?" Charlie asked, sounding as though she was going to burst into tears. "I was going to read to

Murdoch!"

"Murdoch will understand about doing it another night," Scott said calmly.

Charlie began to speak, and then subsided, looking at him out of watery eyes. Obviously, she had something that she

wanted to say.

"What is it?" he asked.

"If I promise you that I'll never go with them again, and I understand everything that you've said, why do I have to be

punished?" she asked, somewhat plaintively. "Besides, Johnny already gave me what-for when he saw me."

Scott looked into her solemn face, and then reached out to take both of her hands in his.

"As far as Johnny, I don't have any disagreement with what he did. And, about the other, do you remember when we

had that talk a few weeks ago? About how when people care for one another, that gives them certain rights, and responsibilities?"

Charlie nodded. "I remember."

"Well, that's why I'm doing this. I want you to spend some time thinking tonight, about the danger, and then writing the report, so

you can understand it from the shopkeeper's point of view." He tugged a little, so that Charlie was closer. "I care about you. I worry for you.

I don't want anything to happen to you."

He took her chin in one hand. "If I didn't care, then I wouldn't try to stop you. I'd just say nothing at all about it. But I do care." He released

her chin, still holding her eyes with his. "And that's why you're going to be punished."

L


	24. Instinct and common sense

Charlie was fairly quiet during the meal, seeming subdued. Every once in a while, Scott would feel her eyes upon him, and when he

looked her way, she would give him a beseeching expression, and then turn back to her plate of food.

She ate what she was given, but declined the seconds that she would typically have asked for.

As everyone was finishing their meal, Teresa got up and began to clear the table. Scott left the table and went to

Murdoch's desk, returning with two sheets of paper and a pencil.

Charlie was still sitting there at the table, as were Johnny and Murdoch, talking. She looked up at Scott as he came back

into the dining room, looking crestfallen as she saw the paper in his hands.

"Are you finished eating?" he asked her quietly.

Charlie nodded at him.

"Alright. Say your goodnights to everyone," he told her, going to wait at the doorway.

Charlie got up, and went around to Murdoch's chair. "Goodnight, Murdoch," she said, and Murdoch reached out to put his arm

around his waist.

"Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll see you at breakfast, alright?"

Charlie nodded. "Maybe we can read tomorrow night," she said, sounding regretful.

"We can do that," Murdoch said.

"Night, Johnny," she said then.

"Goodnight, pequeno," Johnny said quietly.

Scott headed up the stairs, Charlie lagging behind. At the door of the bedroom that she used while at Lancer, Scott stood aside,

ushering her in first.

He went over to the small desk, laying the paper and pencil down, and then turning to look at Charlie, who was still standing

in the same spot. She looked as though she was going to cry at any moment, and Scott had to bolster up his reserve.

"Come here," he said, and she came over to stand in front of him.

"Here's the paper," he said. Unnecessarily, he knew. "I want you to put some thought into writing this out. Try to put yourself in

the position that the storekeepers are in when these things are done."

"Okay," Charlie said, quietly, not meeting his eye.

"I'll read it when I come back up later to say goodnight. Alright?"

"Uh huh," Charlie said, picking at a cuticle.

Then, in a sudden demonstration of behavior, Charlie went to sit on her bed with a flounce. Though she didn't cross her arms, she

might as well have, Scott thought. There was defiance in her movements, even without the crossed arms.

She began to pick at the edge of the quilt on her bed, pointedly ignoring his eyes.

Scott sighed. He considered just going out of the room, and leaving her in her present huff. He was new to this sort of

business. The business of a child that needed attention. And direction. He was going on his instincts, and what he hoped was some common sense.

Somehow, just going out didn't feel as though it was the right thing to do. Maybe he needed to "lay down the law" a bit more.

He went to sit beside her on the bed, sitting in silence for a couple of moments. When Charlie said nothing, but just continued

to avoid his eye, and pick at her fingernails, he sighed again.

"Do you have something that you want to say to me?" he asked.

In response, Charlie shook her head.

"Hmm," Scott said. "Because I get the feeling that you do."

Charlie shook her head again. "I said no," she said, with a bit of sass.

"Alright." He hesitated, thinking. "Well, I'm going to say something to you then. I understand that you're not accustomed to

having any consequences for what you do. But, I've explained to you that it's out of caring that I'm doing this."

Charlie remained stiff, stubbornly looking away, and now she did cross her arms.

Scott felt his temper rise. He decided that he'd given patience enough of an effort.

"I don't expect you to be happy about a punishment, Charlie. You wouldn't be a kid if you were happy about it. What I do expect, though,

is for you to have a respectful attitude. I'm not going to allow you to act out because you're upset. If you continue on like this, or

you don't give the report your best effort, then I'm going to be very unhappy with you."

His words reached Charlie. She looked up into his face for the first time coming into the room.

"Like really angry with me?" she asked tremulously, uncrossing her arms.

"Yes. Like really angry with you," Scott affirmed.

Charlie's big eyes looked over his face, and then filled with tears.

To clinch the understanding, Scott added, "We'll have an entirely different sort of conversation if that happens. Do you

understand what I mean?"

"I think you mean that you'll spank me," Charlie said, in a shaky voice.

"If I have to, I will. And if I have to do that, you'll also have room restriction for more than just one night." He paused. "Do we

understand each other now?"

Charlie nodded at him, looking properly chastened, and with no further evidence of an attitude.

"Alright. I'll be back up when it's bedtime." He got to his feet, and went to the door, giving her a last look before he went out,

closing it behind him.

He went downstairs and poured himself a glass of whiskey, tossing it back, and then pouring another.

"How's the kid?" Johnny asked, from somewhere behind him, and Scott turned, startled, to see his brother sitting there,

in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Give a person some notice next time, will you?" Scott said. "I didn't see you sitting there."

Johnny chuckled a bit. "You seemed intent on your whiskey pourin'. I didn't want to interrupt."

Scott drank his whiskey down, and heard Johnny chuckle again.

"What's so humorous?" he demanded of Johnny.

"Wait until she's fourteen," Johnny said. "Then you'll really need that whiskey."

L

The evening seemed a long one to Scott. It was different when Charlie wasn't actually there, in the house. When she was in Stockton.

They could miss her, but now, with her in close proximity, it seemed as though the time was dragging.

Scott hadn't realized he was showing his feelings quite so openly, until Murdoch spoke quietly, "It's as hard for you as it is for her."

Scott looked to his father in surprise.

"It's normal to feel that way," Murdoch went on.

Scott nodded in acknowledgement of his father's attempt at reassurance.

He waited until exactly eight o'clock, on the dot, before he found the copy of Ivanhoe, and climbed the stairs. He paused outside the bedroom that

Charlie occupied, saying a prayer for guidance, and, if he admitted it, another bit of a prayer requesting that Charlie had done as she was told.

He didn't relish the thought of having to hand out further punishment.

He tapped lightly on the door, and heard Charlie say, "Yes," in a quiet way.

When he stepped inside, it was to find Charlie sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing her nightgown, and holding the paper he'd given her

in both hands.

He went to stand beside the bed, and asked, "How did the writing go?"

Charlie smoothed at the papers she held, which were crumpled a bit. She raised a face that was tearstained. She seemed in control at this point, but it was obvious that she'd spent most of the evening in tears.

"I tried to do my best," she said, and Scott could tell she was sincere.

"Do you want to read it now?" she asked, sounding unsure.

"If you're ready for me to read it," he said.

"I think I am," she said, and handed the papers off to him.

Scott sat down, laid Ivanhoe aside, and took the papers, smoothing them out a little. He began to read, conscious of Charlie waiting, anxious, working her

hands together.

He read quickly, though making sure she got the impression that he was giving careful consideration to what she'd jotted down. He was

actually impressed by the written words. She'd mentioned the fact that the storekeepers would be out the cost to repair the broken windows and

stolen items. She mentioned things that kids could do to keep occupied instead of running amuck. All in all, she'd done a good job of it.

When Charlie could see that he was finishing his reading, she said, sounding anxious, repeating, "I did my best."

To ease her worry, Scott said kindly, "You did fine."

Instantly, her face lightened. "I did?" she asked.

"You did." He lowered the papers. "The only thing I can think of that you didn't jot down is how it's a loss of their time, as well as their

money. If they have to stop their regular duties to fix vandalism, then that's time they lose to their business."

"Oh," Charlie said, looking subdued. "I didn't think of that."

"It's alright," he reassured her. "You did a good job."

He hesitated a moment and then said, "What about the danger of what you were doing? Did you think about that?"

"I thought about what Johnny told me-how if I was caught, it wouldn't matter to the law if I was the one throwing rocks or not," she said, looking

up at him earnestly.

"Right. Kids that get started in that sort of thing find it hard to stop. Like you said, being bored and all."

Charlie looked embarrassed at his comment, and chewed at her bottom lip.

"I'm thinking about the dangers though, too. You could get on the wrong side of one of those kids, and get hurt that way," Scott said.

"But-" Charlie began, and then clamped her lips shut tight.

"What?" Scott prompted.

Charlie shook her head. "I-don't want to sound like I'm-being disrespectful, like you told me earlier."

"I won't think that. Not if you have something to say, and you can say it without an attitude."

Still looking a little unsure, Charlie said slowly, "I was just going to say that those kids are my friends. They wouldn't hurt me."

"Well, maybe they wouldn't," Scott said. "There's other ways of being hurt though, Charlie. You say not many people go to the fountain, at

the park, is that right?"

Charlie nodded.

"What's it like there? Is it kept up? Or is it dangerous?" he asked.

Charlie looked at him guilty. "There's some tall weeds. And broken glass. Sometimes there's a man that sleeps there because he

doesn't have a home."

"Well, that's what I mean, too. If these kids have to find new places to meet up, some of those places aren't going to be

the best. Not safe. You could get hurt there." He regarded her with a serious expression. Charlie's face was flushed, but she

met his eye.

"Do you see these things, that I want you to understand, and keep in your mind?" Scott asked.

"Yes, Scott," Charlie said, looking chastened.

"Alright." He regarded her again, and said, "All ready for bed, then?"

At her nod, he said, "Have you brushed out your hair?"

"A little."

"Do you want me to brush it for you?" he asked.

Charlie gave an emphatic nod.

"Get your hairbrush then," he said, and Charlie got up, going to the dresser and retrieving the brush from the top, returning to

stand beside the bed, and holding out the brush to him.

Scott took it from her, and patted the spot beside him. "Sit down here," he said, and when she had, he began to brush

the long auburn curls. He was quiet, and so was Charlie, for several minutes.

Finally, she said, "Are you still angry with me?" in a very small voice.

"No, Charlie, I'm not."

Scott could literally see the tension leaving her small body. Her shoulders relaxed.

"Do you still-" she paused. "Still think I'm a good kid?"

Scott laid the brush aside. "Look at me," he said.

Charlie turned to face him, fresh tears glistening in those large brown eyes.

Reacting with that same instinct that had been guiding him all afternoon and evening, Scott put an arm out and pulled

her up, and then down again, to sit on his knee.

He gave her a tight hug, and Charlie wrapped her arms around his neck.

When her arms loosened a bit, he looked into her eyes. "I think that you're a great kid," he said. "I've thought that since I met you, and

I haven't changed my mind." He gave her a smile. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay," he echoed, and tapped her nose with his finger. "Do you want to read on Ivanhoe tonight?"

Another emphatic nod.

"Alright. Sit back down here beside me, so I can turn the pages," he said, and Charlie moved from his knee to the

spot beside him.

Scott read, with Charlie leaning against his arm, and following along as he did so.

After a time, Scott put the marker in the pages, and closed the book. "Only one more chapter to go," he said.

"It's a good book," Charlie said, and he heard the fatigue in her voice.

"It is," he agreed. "Get under the covers now."

Charlie nestled down under the quilt, and Scott leaned over to turn down the lamp.

"Sleep well," he said.

"I love you, Scott," she said, and there, in the semi-darkness of that room, Scott felt his world change in its entirety.

He knew that with every fiber of his being, there was no going back. His life was forever altered by a little girl with enormous

brown eyes.

"I love you, Charlie."

L


	25. A kit

As a rule, Scott did not make decisions in his life quickly. Or without a great deal of forethought. Weighing pros and cons of whatever situation

he was trying to work out.

This time was no different. True to his own inherent nature, he went to bed that night in thought, and woke up with the same in his

head the next morning.

He ate his breakfast, and drank his coffee, all while greeting Charlie when she came up to wish him a good morning, and then maintaining conversation

with his family at the table.

Even as he answered his father about work needing done, or heard Johnny ask Charlie what her plans were that day, his mind was at work.

As the family members were rising to their feet, and pushing up their chair to the table, Charlie was helping Maria clear the dishes.

"Can I go with you today?" Charlie asked him, pausing on her way, her hands full of plates. "When you go to check on the cattle with Cipriano?"

"It'll be hot," Scott reminded her.

"I won't complain," Charlie promised.

Scott ran a hand down the side of her face. "I know you won't."

"Can I then?" she asked again.

"May I," he corrected, absently, still looking at her with his thoughts elsewhere.

"May I go? Please?" Charlie amended.

"If you get the things done that Maria needs your help with, then yes. You may," Scott said, giving permission.

Charlie looked to Maria then, her face hopeful.

"Si," Maria said, in agreement, and Charlie happily went on with the dish clearing.

Scott went to take his hat off the hook by the door, and set out to begin the first part of his morning' work. He did his work, but his mind was

as busy as his hands, struggling as hard as his arms did with the posts he was setting.

When he went to the house to collect Charlie before he and Cipriano left to check the cattle, he found her, already with the new horse,

saddling him, while standing on a crate in order to reach.

Jelly was standing nearby, fussy as a bantam chicken. "Told her I'd do it for her, but she won't have none of it," he reported to Scott.

"Mmmm," Scott said, in reply, pausing to watch as Charlie settled the saddle onto the horse's back, and then hopped down from the crate,

to begin tightening the cinch.

"Johnny says it's important to tend to your own horse," Charlie said, a bit breathless from the exertion. She brushed a curl back that

had escaped from her braid.

Jelly walked away, muttering, and Scott couldn't help the ripple of pride that he felt at her tenatiousness.

When she had done the tightening of the cinch, she paused to look up at Scott.

"Will you see if I did it right?" she asked. "See if it's tight enough?"

"Sure," Scott said. "If you can lay two fingers flat between the cinch and your horse, then it's right." He spent a couple of moments checking what she'd done.

"Well done," he said, and Charlie smiled, her dimples showing.

"Look," she said, gesturing down at her legs. "Teresa got these for me before I got here."

Scott surveyed the denims she was wearing. "I see," he said, with a smile.

"I think that was real nice of her," Charlie said, earnestly.

"It was nice," he agreed.

"It's like having a big sister, or something," Charlie said.

"I'm glad you feel that way," Scott said. "Are you ready to go?"

Charlie nodded, and after Scott had saddled his own horse and Cipriano was waiting, they set out, along with another one of

the longtime ranch hands, Jeb.

During their time out, Charlie stayed fairly near to him, for the most part. At one point, when he and Cip and Jeb were in a horseback

circle, discussing things, Charlie rode a bit away into the fence row.

After a few moments, when he saw that she was beginning to dismount, intent on something in the brush, he called

to her, "Come back over here!"

"There's something here!" Charlie called back, pointing downward.

Scott motioned to her with one hand. "Come on."

Charlie cantered back over to the trio of men, and waited, teeming with excitement, until they finished their conversation.

As Jeb rode into a different direction, Cip looked at Charlie and then to Scott. "The little one has something to say," he said to Scott, with

an amused smile.

"I think you're right," Scott said, and turned to Charlie. "What is it?"

"It's a nest. Of baby animals. I don't know what they are-" Charlie spoke breathlessly.

"Hmm," Scott said, leaning back in the saddle a bit and looking at Charlie, and then at Cip.

"What do you think? Should we have a look?" he asked the other man, teasing Charlie.

"Perhaps," Cip said. "Before she bursts."

When they rode over to the brush row, Charlie pointed out what had her so animated. "There," she pointed.

There in the knee-high grass, were several tiny creatures. It was hard to tell exactly how many there were, because they

were lying, overlapped together.

"What are they?" Charlie asked.

"Look to me to be raccoons," Cip said, and looked to Scott. "You agree?"

"I agree," Scott said, leaning over a little in the saddle to look closer.

"Where's their mother?" Charlie asked.

"She will return," Cip said.

"How do you know for sure?"

"Raccoon mothers stay with their young for a time," Cip told her. "She did not abandon them."

"Oh," Charlie said, and looked at the tiny animals longingly. "Could I hold them?"

"No," Scott said, without pausing to consider.

"It's not good to handle wild things," Cip said. "The mother wouldn't like it if they had your scent when she returns."

"It's best to leave them alone," Scott told her.

Cip had turned to ride out, and Scott followed, pulling up his reins when he saw that Charlie was still in the same spot,

watching the baby raccoons.

"Charlie," he prompted, and with obvious reluctance, Charlie followed, coming up beside his horse.

They rode for a time, and Cip went his own way, leaving Scott and Charlie to ride alone the remainder of the distance

to the ranch.

"I've never seen anything like that before," Charlie said, sounding wistful.

"Not many people get the opportunity to see a kit like that."

"A kit?" she asked, looking puzzled.

"That's what a litter of baby raccoons is called," Scott explained.

"Oh." She looked thoughtful. "I wish I could learn more about them."

"We could read about them."

Instantly, her face was alight. "We could?"

"We could look them up, in Murdoch's encyclopedias."

"Can we?" she asked.

"Sure. Tonight, if you like."

"Yes. I'd like to," Charlie said.

They rode in companionable silence for a time.

Charlie broke that silence with a tentative, "Scott?"

"Hmm?"

"I have something to tell you."

He looked to her at his side. "Alright."

Charlie very pointedly kept her gaze on the far horizon, not looking at Scott as she talked.

"Remember yesterday, when we were on the stage? And there was that lady that I was talking to?"

"I remember."

"Well," Charlie hesitated, "She sort of got the wrong idea about us. You and me, I mean."

"Did she?" Scott asked, watching as Charlie struggled with her emotions.

"Yes. She thinks that we're a family. That the ranch is my home." At this last part, Charlie took a deep breath. "She thinks that

I belong to you."

Scott hesitated, trying to find the right words. Words that would not condemn, but also would not condone non-truth.

"I know I shouldn't have let her think it," Charlie went on, still looking outward, away from Scott's gaze. "It was just-that it was

nice for a little while." Her voice trailed off and she risked a look his way.

Scott gave her a kind smile, to encourage her. "You probably shouldn't have let her come to conclusions that aren't true," he said

gently. Charlie's face drooped.

"The truth is always best," he said, and Charlie nodded.

"Yes," she said, looking sad.

"In this case though, there are things that are a little bit different," Scott went on, and Charlie looked at him with interest.

"For one thing, when you're here, visiting with us, then Lancer is your home. And you are a part of our family. From now on, you

always will be, whether you're here with us or not."

With Charlie's eyes on him, hanging on every word, Scott went on, "And, while we're talking about the truth here, then I need

to tell you that I heard the conversation you had with the lady on the stage."

Charlie looked startled. "You did?"

"Yes. I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Charlie asked.

Scott sighed a little, looked out towards the view in front of them, and then back at Charlie again. "Because I was thinking

about how nice it would be. If things were like you said."

"Really?" Charlie asked.

"Sure."

"You mean if I really was yours?" she asked.

"Yeah. That's what I mean," he said, and smiled at her.

Charlie beamed at him.

L


	26. A Stone girl, and a Wonderland book

The hours turned into days, and the days turned into a week. Charlie kept herself busy, and if she needed something more to fill her time,

there was always someone able to help out with that.

Teresa took her into town a couple of times. Once, to buy her more jeans, and then another time to introduce her to Lucy Stone, the younger sister

of one of Teresa's friends. Charlie had been convinced to wear a dress, and the four females met at the Stone home, where a somewhat tea party

had been prepared.

Teresa kept an eye on Charlie, and saw that, while she was polite, she and Lucy did not seem particularly impressed with one another.

She tried to broach the subject on the drive home in the buggy, observing that Charlie seemed subdued.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" she asked Charlie.

"I liked the tea they made. It was really sweet," Charlie responded.

"Yes," Teresa agreed. "Mrs. Stone likes her tea with plenty of sugar."

Charlie nodded, and began to undo her shoes, her obvious intent to remove them.

Teresa started to say something in faint protest, then let it go.

As Charlie pulled off her shoes, and then began to peel her stockings down, Teresa tried again. "What do you think of Lucy?" she asked.

Charlie hesitated, and then said, "It's hard to say, when you've only just met a person."

"You can at least know whether you like a person, Charlie," Teresa said. "Even if it was only a short while."

Charlie placed her rolled-up stockings on the buggy seat between them.

"She has a lot of nice books," Charlie said then, stretching her bare feet out in front of her.

Teresa gave Charlie an impatient sigh. "I'm not asking about her books, silly. I'm asking if you think you might want to be

friends with Lucy."

"I could try," Charlie said, and then pointed. "Look! There's Scott and Murdoch!"

They were spotted by the two men, who approached them on horseback, riding up beside the buggy, Murdoch on Teresa's side,

and Scott on Charlie's.

"Hullo, lovelies," Murdoch greeted them with a smile, as Teresa brought the buggy to a halt

"How was your tea party?" Scott asked, smiling at Charlie.

"The food was wonderful, as it always is at their home," Teresa said.

"How about you?" Scott asked Charlie. "Did you have a good time?"

"It was nice of Teresa to take me," Charlie said, in answer, and then said to Teresa, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Teresa said dryly.

"Can I ride with you?" Charlie asked Scott, standing up in the buggy.

"May I," Scott corrected.

"May I?" Charlie asked.

In response, Scott held out his left arm to steady her as she made the transition from buggy to the spot behind him on

the horse.

"All set?" he asked her, when she was settled, her skirts spread out and her arms around his waist.

"All set."

"We'll see you back at the house," Scott said, addressing his father and Teresa, and he urged the horse into

a run.

Watching them ride away, her eyes following, Teresa gave a sigh.

"Trouble?" Murdoch asked her.

"No. Nothing like that," Teresa said. "It's just-well, I can't get Charlie to tell me even a simple thing, such as what she thought

of Lucy Stone, or would she want to be friends with her. She keeps dodging and answering another way until I'm not even sure what

I asked."

"Did the girls not get on together?" Murdoch asked.

"They neither one seemed to talk much to the other. I was hoping it was just shyness on both their parts." Teresa looked thoughtful for a moment.

"There was a little bit of time when they were alone together, but I don't think there was an argument or anything."

"Hmm," Murdoch said.

"I so wanted her and Lucy to hit it off," Teresa said, and sighed again.

"Well, you made the first step possible. Perhaps it will work out," Murdoch said.

L

Charlie went horseback riding with Johnny late in the afternoon, and Teresa took her opportunity to talk to Scott about

the visit to the Stone's.

"Did Charlie mention it at all to you?" Teresa asked, leaning against the fence.

Scott took off his hat, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his arm, and then putting the hat back on.

"No. She didn't seem to want to talk about it. Why?"

Teresa listed her concerns, and observations, and Charlie's cryptic answers.

"Well, maybe they just didn't take a liking to one another," Scott said. "It's not the end of the world, is it?"

"She needs a friend, Scott. You know that, better than anyone. What did you tell us you talked with her about? Finding a friend

that was midway between a thug and a dressmaker's dummy?" Teresa asked.

Scott gave a smile at her description.

"Did you not?" Teresa prompted him.

"I don't think I used those words, exactly, but yes, I did."

"Well, then," Teresa said, lifting her palms.

Scott looked thoughtful. "Is it possible that Lucy wasn't kind? And maybe that's the trouble?"

"I don't think she was unkind. She wasn't raised that way."

"Kids act differently away from their parents sometimes," Scott said, and bent to pick up another sack of feed from the back of the wagon,

and walking with it over his shoulder into the barn.

"I don't know what her reasons would be, for being unkind, though." Teresa objected, following him.

"It's just a suggestion," Scott told her, and added the sack of feed to the stack against the wall.

He paused to brush his hands together, and gave Teresa a look. "I'll talk to Charlie about it. See if I can get anywhere."

"Alright. Good," Teresa said. She turned and then paused at the barn door.

"We're having a guest for supper tonight. Cole's going to join us."

"I see," Scott said, and smiled at her. But just a little. He didn't want Teresa to think he was teasing.

"Yes. So I'd appreciate it if you talked to Johnny, as well. Stress to him the merits of leaving suspicion and hostility at the

door. Will you, please?" she asked.

"You really do think I'm a miracle worker, don't you?" Scott accused.

Teresa grinned impishly, and then blew him a kiss, as she started towards the house.

L

Teresa's new beau came to supper. He was a quiet, young man who seemed very fond of Teresa. Charlie was mostly quiet during

the meal, taking in the atmosphere and the exchanges between the adults.

Johnny offered his hand to Cole in greeting, and asked him a few pointed questions that seemed to both embarrass and irritate Teresa.

"Johnny," she protested at one such question, and narrowed her eyes at him across the table.

Charlie could tell that even though Teresa was giving Johnny the 'evil eye', she was trying to appear still ladylike in front of

Cole. Charlie giggled a little, softly, at Teresa's expression, but Murdoch heard, and he reached over and tapped her knee under the table.

When she looked towards Murdoch, he gave a slight shake of his head, and Charlie went back to concentrating on her food.

Upstairs, later, Charlie was pulling her nightgown over her head, when there was a knock on the door. She stood up, pulling it down

and trying to tug her hair caught in the neckline.

"Yes," she said, and Scott came in.

"Wash your face?" he asked her, coming to sit down on the bed.

"Yes. And I brushed my teeth."

"Ready to read, then?" he asked, and Charlie took her customary place beside him, snuggling into his side, and watching the

pages as he read.

Since finishing Ivanhoe, their new reading project was 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'. After reading nearly a chapter, Scott put

the bookmark in, and closed the book.

"Do you like it?" Charlie asked, looking at him curiously.

"It's alright," Scott said. "It's definitely got some twists and turns to it."

"You don't like it as much as you do Ivanhoe, though, do you?"

"No. Not as much as Ivanhoe," Scott affirmed.

Charlie hooked her arm thru his, pressed to his side.

"Why did Johnny ask Cole so many questions?" she asked.

"Well, because he loves Teresa," Scott said.

"That's why he asked all those things? Because he loves Teresa?"

"Mostly, yes. He wants to make sure that Cole is a good person," Scott explained.

"Oh," Charlie said, leaning her head against him.

"So what about the get-together at the Stone's today?" Scott asked. "Teresa got the impression that you

didn't have a very good time."

"I tried not to be rude," Charlie said.

"Nobody is accusing you of being rude," Scott said. He waited a couple of moments and then looked down at Charlie. "What happened?"

Charlie sighed heavily. "When we went upstairs to her bedroom, she said some things. That's all."

"What things?" he asked.

"Do I have to say?" Charlie asked.

"No. I guess you don't. Not if you don't want to. But," he added, "If it was something that shouldn't have been said by Lucy,

then I'd like you to tell me. Then we could discuss it with her parents-"

Charlie looked at him, alarmed. "I wouldn't want you to do that. She might get punished-"

"If it's something that deserves a punishment, then that would be due to her own actions. Not yours," Scott pointed out.

Charlie looked contemplative. "I'd just as soon not say. Not right now, anyway." She looked at Scott, a little worried.

"Is that alright?" she asked.

"Is it something that's going to worry you? Cause you upset?" he asked, before answering her question.

Charlie shook her head in denial.

"Well, we'll let it go for right now then," Scott said.

He, as had become another nightly custom for the two of them, brushed out Charlie's long auburn hair.

As he worked out the tangles and snarls, Charlie spoke up quietly. "Have you heard anything from Katherine? About when I have

to go back?"

"No. I haven't," Scott said, just as quietly. "If I had, I'd have told you. I wouldn't keep that from you."

"Oh."

There was something in her tone, a hesitation. A new worry. Scott heard it.

"Did you think that I would? Not tell you?" he asked.

"I thought you might think-that you wouldn't tell me until you had to," Charlie said.

Scott hesitated, the hairbrush paused in mid-air. Before he could answer, Charlie went on. "I mean, you'd do it because you're

so nice."

Scott began brushing again, and said in as calm a tone as he could muster, so as to reassure her, "I'd tell you. Because I know

you'd be strong enough to handle it."

"I'm not strong, though, Scott," Charlie said, barely able to be heard.

Scott handed the brush over her shoulder to her. Charlie stood up to go and lay it on the top of the dresser. She kept her back to

him, fiddling with things there.

"I know you're wrong about that," Scott said. "You're a very strong little girl."

Charlie shook her head. "No," he heard her say.

"Come here," he told her.

Charlie stood where she was a moment longer, then looked in the mirror at his reflection.

When she hesitated, he prompted, "Charlie."

She turned and came to him, and he sat her down on his knee. He looked at her downtrodden expression, and

tried teasing.

"So this is what we've come to, is it?" he asked. "Contradiction?"

"What's that?" she asked him.

"When I say I believe that you're strong, and you tell me that's not so. That's contradiction."

"Oh," she said, and kept her big eyes on his face.

Scott saw that the teasing had fallen flat, so instead he said, "You have strength that you don't even know you have yet."

"Do you think so?"

"Absolutely," he said.

Charlie reached her fingers up and began to fiddle with the top button on his shirt.

"I don't want to go back, Scott."

"I know."

"Is there a way that I could give all the money to someone else?" she asked, and looked at Scott. "Then she wouldn't have me

back again. The money's the only reason."

Though his heart was hurting at her question, Scott resolved to be truthful with her. At least as far as he was able.

"As a child, you can't make that sort of decision," he said gently.

"But it's about me," she protested.

"It's difficult to understand, I know."

Charlie sighed heavily, and got off his knee to climb onto the bed, and under the quilt.

Charlie reached out to give him a hug, and then laid back. Scott tucked the covers up around her.

As he reached to turn down the lamp, Charlie said, "Could I stay here, though? If it was possible, I mean."

Not sure how to answer, Scott hesitated. He didn't intend to give her any false hope, even though he wanted to.

"There's so many things, adult things, that would have to be considered in something like this. A lot of different folks would

need to honor what your mother wanted for you. With an inheritance like what your father left, decisions aren't something

to be taken lightly-"

Charlie reached out, in the semi-darkness, to take his hand. She squeezed it hard.

"I just meant, that IF I could stay here, would you want me to?"

Scott tried to force his voice to remain steady. He ran a hand down her cheek, and said, very quietly,

"Yes, Charlie. I would."

L


	27. Heart leads the way

The days passed, and Charlie recovered her customary happy nature, running all around, busy with all sorts of things, and, in general filling the

house with life.

Scott kept himself busy, as well, which wasn't difficult, with the amount of work there was to do around the ranch.

One morning, he rose early, earlier than was usual, and went down to the kitchen, greeting Maria, who was just beginning the preparations

for the breakfast.

"Buenos dias, Senor Scott," she said, and handed off a cup of steaming coffee to him.

"Thank you," he said, and smiled at the older woman. And then he went out to sit, in one of the chairs in front of the house. He drank his

coffee, deep in his own thoughts.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see his father standing there, a cup in his own hand.

"Good morning," Scott said.

Murdoch sank down in the chair next to Scott.

"What's on your mind, son?" Murdoch asked.

"So much," Scott said.

Murdoch was silent, then, and after a few quiet moments, Scott spoke. "I'm going into Stockton."

"Today?" Murdoch asked, looking at Scott questioningly.

"I think today, yes."

"Alright," Murdoch said, and then was quiet again. Not prying. Just waiting.

"I'm going to try to talk to Mr. Beets," Scott said.

"The lawyer? The one in charge of Charlie's inheritance?" Murdoch asked.

At Scott's nod, Murdoch gave his eldest son a discerning glance.

"I see," he said.

"You already knew, didn't you?" Scott asked him. "Where my mind was leading me?"

"I was fairly certain," Murdoch said.

"So you're not surprised?" Scott asked.

"No, son. I'm not surprised."

"I would like your opinion," Scott said.

Murdoch looked out across the courtyard, and toward the mountains. "I think there might be difficulty. Both in getting it done, and

afterwards. It's a life-altering idea. But, knowing you as I do, I'm sure that you've already been over all of the pros and cons, multiple times."

"I have," Scott admitted.

"Then I trust your judgement," Murdoch said. He smiled at Scott. "And I can't say as I wouldn't be happy, having that

little girl around here all the time."

"Thanks, Murdoch," Scott said, with a grateful smile in return at his father.

"I just think that there might be some difficulty in unraveling the guardianship that's been set up," Murdoch went on, sounding

regretful. "I don't want to see you hurt. If it doesn't work, I mean."

"I know."

"And the child? She'd be so terribly hurt, if it failed," Murdoch went on.

"I wouldn't tell her, of course. Not until I knew something for certain," Scott said.

"That's good," Murdoch approved.

They sat in companionable silence for a time, as the smell of cooking bacon came upon the morning air.

"And the future? You've given that due thought, as well?" Murdoch asked.

"I have. She'd have Maria, and Teresa. It's not as though she'd be without female company. They'd be here, to teach

her the things that a woman can."

"They would. And they'd be glad to do it," Murdoch said. "But actually, I was thinking more about your own future, with

a woman."

"Ah," Scott said, with a nod. "I've thought about that, too."

"Some women wouldn't be able to care for a child that wasn't theirs. At least, not in the way that they should," Murdoch cautioned.

"As her aunt has proved," Scott said.

"Well, yes," Murdoch said. "And with that in mind, Charlie's already had to bear a woman that doesn't really care for her in

the right way. You'd have to keep that in mind, when or if you ever decide seriously on a woman."

"The way I see it, I would hope that I would choose a woman to spend my life with, that knows, and welcomes the

thought that Charlie would be a part of that life," Scott said. "I'd strive to look past the outward appearance, and into the

heart of a woman that I asked to marry me. To make certain that she had room in her heart for Charlie, as well as me."

Murdoch reached out to put a big hand on the back of Scott's head, in a rare gesture of affection.

"You make me proud, son," he said. Then he added, "And I don't believe it's only just your mind that's leading you down this path. I'd

wager that your heart is in front."

L

It was later in the mid-morning, after Scott had taken care of a few things, and then gone to change to a clean shirt, and

come back down the stairs, that Charlie turned from where she was sitting at the piano, doing some scales.

"Scott!" she greeted him happily, twisting on the piano bench. "I didn't know you were inside!"

She got up and ran to him, "Where are you going?" she asked, taking note of his change of clothing.

"I have a meeting to go to," he told her, running his hand over her hair.

"Oh," she said, looking disappointed. "I was hoping you could go riding with me, maybe."

"Well, not right now, I can't," he said.

"Johnny's gone off somewhere, too," Charlie said. "I've been around the house all morning. I really want to go

riding."

"Well, Johnny will likely be back soon. You can ask him then."

"Could I go alone? If I just went in the field closest to the house?" she asked, looking up at him earnestly.

"No. I think that you should wait for one of us to go with you."

"I'm getting along fine with Gurth, though," she said.

Scott raised an eyebrow at the name. "Gurth?" he questioned.

"From Ivanhoe," Charlie affirmed. "I thought that since Gurth was a true friend, and he was loyal, and brave, well, I thought

it would be a good name for my horse."

"I think it's a fine name," Scott told her.

Charlie smiled at him, and walked on beside him, as he headed towards the front door.

"Could we go later then?" she asked.

"If I get back in time, then we will," he said.

"Okay," Charlie said, in reluctance.

L

Scott's mind churned the entire ride to Stockton. Once there, he went to one of the restaurants that he'd eaten at previously,

and had lunch, and several cups of coffee. He would have liked a drink, but thought that the coffee should probably suffice.

He inquired from a man who was also lunching at the next table, as to whether he knew the location of the law office of

Henry Beets.

The general location was known by the man, though not the exact street address. Scott thanked him, and went

on his way. Once he was in the general vicinity given, it was no great difficulty to find the building, the sign above it

reading, 'Henry J. Beets, Attorney at Law'.

He stepped inside, pushing open the heavy wooden door.

A bell jingled overhead, announcing his arrival, and as he closed the door, a voice from further inside a long hallway,

called out, "Just a moment."

Scott eyed the chairs available, but, instead, took off his hat, and holding it, walked around the large lobby looking at the

artwork on the walls.

With a practiced eye, he knew none of the paintings were vastly expensive, but they were appealing to look at. Scott found himself

feeling favorable toward Mr. Beets. He most likely could have afforded to display only high-dollar art work in his office, yet chose

to instead feature beauty that was inexpensive.

"Good afternoon," said a voice from behind, and Scott turned.

"Mr. Beets," Scott said, in greeting, extending his hand. "I'm not certain whether you'd remember me. We met at

Charlie-Charlotte's aunt's home. Scott Lancer."

"Yes, of course," the lawyer said, shaking Scott's hand. "And, I do remember you, as a matter of fact."

After they'd exchanged a moment or two of pleasantries, such as the weather, Mr. Beets asked, "How is Charlotte? She's still

at your family home?"

"Yes. She is. She's fine," Scott said. "Doing very well."

"I'm glad to hear that." He regarded Scott thru his spectacles. "Was there something that you wanted to speak to me about?"

"There was something, yes."

"Well, come on back to my office," the other man said, waving Scott to follow him, and leading the way down the long

hallway.

Inside the spacious office, Mr. Beets settled himself behind his desk, and gestured to a chair opposite the desk.

"Please. Sit down," he said. And then, "How can I help you, Scott?"

"Well, I'm not sure just how to approach this," Scott admitted, turning his hat in his hands, and then, realizing what he was doing,

he stopped.

"However it is that you'd like to, I'm sure that will be fine," the older man said, kindly.

Scott nodded. "My family and I, we've all grown very fond of Charlie. We enjoy having her with us. She likes being there, as well."

"Oh, yes, I'm aware," Mr. Beets said with a smile. "She was very forthcoming about how much she loves her visits with your family."

"Yes." Scott hesitated. "I was wondering if you could tell me how it came about that Katherine became Charlie's guardian."

"It's not too complicated, really. When Charlotte's mother died, she had no siblings. The only family member happened to be

Katherine," Mr. Beets said.

"I figured that was it," Scott said. He hesitated, and then said, "I'm just going to say it outright, Mr. Beets. I'm interested in the

possibility of becoming Charlie's guardian."

"I see," Mr. Beets said, and Scott thought that there was little, if any, surprise on his face. Perhaps, as a lawyer, he was schooled

in not letting his emotions show.

Scott quickly spoke to dispel the notion, if there was any, that he was interested in anything part or parcel of Charlie's

inheritance. "My family and I own a ranch. We're not necessarily wealthy, but we are financially secure for the most part. I'd be

willing to sign something, stating that I would have no claim, present or future, on Charlie's inheritance. I wouldn't have need for

any monthly allotment for her. I could provide everything she needs."

Mr. Beets leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together, and watching Scott.

"This really isn't a sudden decision," Scott went on.

"I'm sure it's not," the lawyer agreed. Then, "Explain to me, if you will, your reasons for wanting to do this. Beyond, of course,

being fond of Charlotte."

"I think that we could give her a stable life, a proper upbringing. We'd see to her education, and make sure she was able to make

the most of any opportunities we could give her." Scott hesitated, and then he laid his hat on the desk, and leaned forward a bit.

"I'm not saying what I really want to say," he said. "What I'm feeling is that my family could give Charlie something she doesn't

have right now, with her aunt."

At Mr. Beet's questioning look, Scott said quietly, "Charlie's lacking in things. Nothing materially, of course. But she feels that her

aunt only keeps her due to the inheritance. I know kids can get mixed up on things sometimes. But, from listening to Charlie, and

talking with Katherine on my own, I'm sorry to say that I agree."

There was a long moment of silence, and then Mr. Beets said, "I see."

"Charlie's gotten no guidance, and it's beginning to show itself in some worrisome behavior," Scott said, and then paused. "I don't

intend to offend-" he said.

"No, no. Please, go on," Mr. Beets said.

"You're aware of the way that Charlie and I met?" Scott asked.

"In your hometown, correct?"

"Yes, sir. But, I meant how Charlie arrived there."

"I assumed she was traveling with Katherine?" he asked, in question.

"No. She was alone. Well, traveling with another child," Scott corrected.

"Traveling alone on a train?" the other man asked, looking surprised.

Scott went on to disclose the fact that Charlie was riding the rails, in lieu of a train ticket, and got off the train only

because she was fleeing from another passenger who accused her of theft.

"I'd never known Charlotte to steal," Mr. Beets said, looking disturbed.

"She hadn't. Stolen anything, I mean. But it was an ordeal, and it could have turned out a lot worse than it did."

After Scott had completed the rest of that particular day, he went on to describe how a week or so earlier, they'd

found Charlie running with the group of children on the street.

"Did you speak to Katherine about it? She was aware of it?" Mr. Beets asked, looking bothered.

"I did speak to her about it. She said if I felt I could get thru to Charlie, to feel free to do so."

"I see," the lawyer said again.

"It worries me," Scott said. "Charlie's promised me that she won't be a part of the group doing the vandalism, but I think it might

be hard for her to keep that promise."

There were a few more moments of silence in the room, and then the lawyer spoke again.

"I've always known, of course, that Katherine found Charlotte-shall we say, difficult, at times to deal with," he said, sounding

pensive. "She's told me often about Charlotte's disobedience, and refusal to comply, but I must admit that I always put it off

onto Katherine not having raised a child before. It seems that she had somewhat of a point about the child."

Seeing the direction that the lawyer's mind was flowing, in a diminished view of Charlie's character, Scott

tried to remedy that.

"The things that I'm sharing with you, sir, well, they are very serious. But I've spoken to Charlie about it all, explained things to

her. I gave her a consequence. She maintains that she never crossed the line to stealing anything, and that it was done mostly out of

boredom. And loneliness."

"Loneliness?" the older man asked, looking surprised.

"Yes, sir."

"In what way has she expressed that she's lonely?" he asked.

"She doesn't feel-" Scott hesitated, and then decided to take his chance while it was available, "Cared for. She doesn't feel as though

she's cared about."

"Katherine's reserved in that respect," Mr. Beets said.

"I mean no disrespect, Mr. Beets," Scott said, leaning forward a bit. "But it's nothing to do with being reserved." Scott thought

of what Johnny had said before.

"Caring for a child, it's so much more than seeing that they have proper clothing, and teaching them the piano. Those things

Katherine's done for Charlie. But, really caring for her. Spending time with her. Giving her guidance, and discipline. Loving her. Those

things she hasn't done," Scott said.

Mr. Beets leaned back in his chair, looking at Scott intently over the top of his spectacles again.

"You speak very passionately, Scott," he said.

"Yes, sir," Scott said, and then was quiet.

"Guardianships are not easily dissolved," Mr. Beets said. "There must be circumstances to warrant such an action."

"I understand that."

"I'll admit that the prospect of Charlotte being involved with a group of children that are up to such things, that is concerning. Very

concerning," Mr. Beets said. "And, of course I want the best for her. I'm very fond of the child."

Scott nodded in acknowledgement.

"You've given me some food for thought here, Scott. Perhaps I've been remiss in my duty to Charlotte. On the occasions that

we do have a conversation, I've been inclined to accept her at her word, about everything being acceptable."

"I didn't intend to imply that, sir," Scott said. "That any of this is your fault, I mean."

"I know you didn't. But, if that's the case, then it definitely needs to be remedied on my part. Perhaps my questions to her need

to be a bit more detailed, more involved. And more private, as well, without having Katherine present."

Mr. Beets stood up, and Scott stood up, as well.

"Let me speak to Katherine," he said, and then quickly added, "I assure you, I'll be discreet about the conversation that you and I

have had here today."

"I appreciate that," Scott said.

"Let's go on as we are, for the time being," Mr. Beets continued. "With the visits. How long was she going to be

visiting with you and your family this time?"

"We don't have a set date for her to leave, and come back to Stockton," Scott said. "It would be fine with all of us

if she stayed the rest of the summer."

At that, Mr. Beets smiled. "I can tell that you are entirely sincere in that statement, Scott."

"I am," Scott agreed, and smiled at the older man in return.

"Before you go, are you aware of the amount of the inheritance that Charlotte will receive, at the age of 21?"

"No, sir," Scott said.

And then, Mr. Beets stated a figure that gave Scott a shock. Even after having been raised with a wealthy grandfather,

the figure stunned him.

"Good Lord," he said, under his breath.

L


	28. Murdoch and jellybeans

On the road leading back to the ranch, Scott saw Charlie at a fair distance, riding her horse, with Johnny alongside on his own.

He heard Johnny calling to him, and Scott waved.

When he got closer, and saw that they were riding to meet him, he pulled to a stop, and waited.

Charlie, when she rode up beside him, looked to be in her element. Happy, with a healthy glow to her cheeks.

"Hullo, Scott!" she greeted him.

"Hullo yourself," he answered.

Johnny rode up on the other side of Scott. "Brother," he said, and grinned.

"Little brother," Scott said.

"We've been riding all afternoon," Charlie told him.

"That's good."

"Yes. Johnny says I'm a natural horsewoman," Charlie said with pride.

"Does he now?" Scott asked, and smiled at her.

"Did you have a successful meeting?" Johnny asked, and Scott could tell that Murdoch had told him about

the meeting with Lawyer Beets.

"I guess that depends on how you look at it," Scott said, and he and Johnny exchanged a glance between them.

"You're doing your 'talking without words' thing again," Charlie said.

She sounded so vexed that both brothers turned amused looks to her.

"Are we?" Scott asked.

"Yes. I can't understand what you're talking about when you do that," Charlie complained.

"Well, maybe that's because nosy little girls don't need to know everything," Johnny chided her.

"I'm not nosy!" Charlie protested.

When both Johnny and Scott gave her a dubious look at that comment, Charlie shrugged. "I'm just curious."

"Polite word for bein' nosy," Johnny said, and smiled at her.

As they turned to ride together back towards the house, Charlie bobbed up and down in her saddle with excitement.

"Guess what we found out today?" she asked Scott.

"I can't guess."

"We found out that Gurth knows how to jump!" Charlie announced, and Scott raised an eyebrow.

"How did you find that out?" he asked warily.

"We were galloping and going over the low wash, and he just sort of did it. Jumped, I mean," she said.

"Uh huh," Scott said, looking to Johnny.

"Nothin' intentional," Johnny said. "Just-" he made a blowing noise and waved his hand straight out. "Like that."

"Just like that, huh?" Scott asked drily.

"The kid and I have already had a talk about tryin' out any more jumps by herself," Johnny told him.

"Uh huh," Scott said.

"Even though I think Gurth could do way more than he did today," Charlie said.

Before Scott could speak, and offer his own words of stern caution, Johnny spoke first.

"And even though he probably can, you're not gonna find out by yourself. Or you won't be doin'

any ridin' at all for a long spell. Understand?"

"Yes, Johnny," Charlie said, and Scott turned to his brother, impressed by the way he'd curbed Charlie's

effervescence. Kind, but firm.

L

That night, once they'd done their nightly reading of another chapter in 'Alice in Wonderland', and Scott had marked

the page, and put the book aside, they sat in quiet for a few moments.

"I went for a walk with Murdoch earlier today," Charlie said.

"That's good."

"He was showing me different flowers and plants, and telling me their names. I picked some of them, and Teresa put them in a vase."

"Murdoch knows a lot about that sort of thing, for sure," Scott said.

"I think he really likes me," Charlie said, as if she was considering. "He talks to me like I'm smart, and like as though I can

understand things."

"I know for certain that he likes you," Scott said. "And he thinks you are smart, or he wouldn't talk to you that way at all."

"I'm glad," Charlie said, leaning her cheek on Scott's arm. "That he thinks that, I mean."

"It sounds as though you've had a busy day," he said.

"It was a good day," Charlie said.

"Time for bed," Scott said. He had an ache in one leg, and had his thoughts on a finger or two of whiskey.

Charlie scrambled obediently underneath the quilt, and reached her arms up for their now customary good-night

hug. When she'd laid down, and Scott had tucked her up, she looked at him, and said, "Was your meeting with Katherine today?"

To say that he was taken aback, would have been a correct description. "Why would you ask that?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, looking up at him with those big eyes. "I just thought maybe it was."

For a moment, Scott debated about how to answer. "Well, it wasn't," he said. He leaned a little closer to her.

"But, even if it had been, that would be between Katherine and I. It wouldn't be your business," he added.

Hearing the tone of his voice, Charlie looked 'put in her place'.

"I didn't mean anything," she said.

"I know you didn't," Scott said, more kindly. "I want you to remember, though, that when you're here, with all of us, your

job is to be a kid. Do the chores you're given, ride your horse, pick wildflowers with Murdoch, all of that. But mostly, be a kid.

No adult worries. And no adult business. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, looking subdued.

"Alright," he said, and turned down the lamp.

L

The days after that settled into an easy pattern. Charlie found her niche, and fit there very well, amongst the other

family members. There was no message sent out from town, stating that a telegram had arrived from Katherine, asking

for Charlie to return.

Scott hoped that his own suggestion of Charlie simply residing at Lancer for the remainder of the summer had taken

root.

On one such sunny morning, Murdoch drove the buggy to town, to pick up some things at the Mercantile, and Charlie

rode along. Murdoch allowed her to hold the reins nearly the whole of the trip in, and when they stopped on the main street,

Murdoch got out, and lifted his arms up to swing Charlie down.

"We'll get our things we need at the store," he told Charlie, "And then we'll fetch the mail, if there is any. Then we'll go and

have a treat for ourselves. Some ice cream?" he queried.

Charlie nodded in eagerness. "Yes."

"Alright, then."

"I can go and gather the mail," Charlie told him.

Murdoch nodded. "Alright. I'll meet you in the store, then."

Charlie ran across the street to the post office, and went in, the bell over the doorway clanging.

"Well, hello," the girl behind the counter greeted her.

"Hello. I'm here to get the mail for the Lancers," Charlie said.

"Oh. Are you the one that's been visiting with them?" she asked, in a friendly way.

When Charlie nodded, the girl smiled, and then went to leaf thru letters and packages.

"Here you go," she said, handing a package and several pieces of mail across the counter to Charlie. "No one had come

for a time to pick it up, so there's quite a lot of it. Can you manage?"

"Yes, I can manage," Charlie said, and gathered the things in her arms.

Walking back across the street to the hitched buggy, Charlie paused to put the package on the seat first, and then

lay the mail down. Thinking then, that there might be enough of a breeze to blow a letter, she moved the letters to put

them under the package for weight.

Seeing the curly, spidery handwriting on the outside of one of the letters, gave Charlie pause. She laid the rest of the

mail down in the buggy seat, and gave the one letter a closer inspection.

There was no doubt that she recognized the handwriting on the letter, which was addressed to 'Mr. Scott Lancer'. Her heart sank.

She stood there, beside the buggy, her stomach churning.

Then, she took the letter, folded it, and tucked it into a pocket of her blue jeans.

L

A few minutes later, inside the store with Murdoch, she helped carry things to the counter.

"A nickel's worth of jellybeans," Murdoch told Mrs. Patrick, behind the counter.

When the jellybeans had been put into a small sack, and they were walking out of the store, Murdoch handed her

the bag.

"For the ride home," he told her.

Charlie gave him an upturned glance, and nodded.

After they'd put the purchased items into the buggy, Murdoch took Charlie's hand and they went to have the

promised bowls of ice cream.

Once on the way home, Murdoch held out the reins in offering. Charlie took them from him, and Murdoch

leaned back in the buggy seat a bit, and opened the sack of candy.

He took out a jellybean and popped it into his mouth, and Charlie gave him an incredulous glance.

At that look, Murdoch raised an eyebrow to her. "Did you think they were all for you?" he teased.

"No. It's just-do you like jellybeans?" she asked him.

"I happen to love jellybeans," Murdoch said, and reached into the bag for another.

L

After lunch, gathered around the table, Charlie ate little, a fact which did not go unnoticed by the others.

"What's goin' on, pequeno?" Johnny asked her. "You've hardly eaten anything."

Charlie shrugged. "Just not hungry," she said.

"Too much ice cream and jellybeans, most likely," Murdoch intervened. "Hmm, darling?"

Charlie gave him a slight smile, and when lunch was over, she went outside.

It was several hours later that Johnny went looking for her. Locating her behind the barn, sitting in the sunshine, she was

playing with the newest litter of kittens.

"Here you are," he said. "How about taking a ride?"

"Now?" she asked, with an uncustomary lack of enthusiasm.

"Well, we don't have to," he said mildly. "I just thought you might want to."

"I do want to," she said, and scrambled to her feet.

So they went to saddle the horses, and go for a ride. Charlie was quieter than usual, and when they were

back at the barn, unsaddling the horses, and putting the tack away, Charlie spoke up.

"Johnny?" she asked, beginning to brush her horse.

"Hmmm?"

"What does the law say, about reading something that's meant for someone else?"

Johnny gave her a puzzled look over the top of his own horse. "Like what?"

"Well, like when a person writes something, but they don't really want anybody to read it, except maybe one person."

"Like a journal, you mean? Or a diary?" Johnny asked.

"Well," the little girl hesitated. "Sort of like that."

"A person's journal is somethin' private," he said. "Generally, folks don't want others to read what they write in those."

"Well," she said, as though thinking hard. "What if they want a certain person to read it? But, instead, another person reads it?"

Johnny rested his arms on the horse's back, and gave her a still-puzzled look.

"Would that be against the law?" she asked. "To be that other person, who's doing the reading?"

"I don't know about it bein' against the law," Johnny said slowly. "I guess I'm not understanding just what you

mean."

"Well-" Charlie began again, only to stop talking with an abrupt halt, as Scott came walking from the other

direction.

"How was the ride?" Scott asked.

"Good. Fine," Johnny said, while Charlie was quiet.

"Did I interrupt something?" Scott asked, at the sudden quiet.

"Naw. The kid was just askin' me about some stuff," Johnny said. "Hey, pequeno, maybe you ought to ask Scott

those questions-"

"No!" Charlie said. At their startled looks, she said, "I mean, you answered me fine, Johnny. Just fine."

As she turned away, to continue grooming Gurth, Johnny met Scott's puzzled look over her head, and gave a

shrug.

At supper, Charlie's appetite still seemed to be suppressed.

"Just how much candy did you give her, Murdoch?" Scott asked, in a teasing way.

"I didn't think we overdid it that much," Murdoch said.

"Do you feel alright?" Scott asked Charlie.

"Yes. Fine," Charlie said, and promptly began a surge of sudden eating, as if to prove that she was, indeed, hungry after all.

After supper, she helped to dry the dishes, and then when Teresa urged her to come along to sit with the rest of the

family, as usual, Charlie did so, but with a subdued nature.

"Come and sit with me, sweetheart," Murdoch said, and Charlie went to take a spot beside him in his big chair.

After that, they all talked, in conversation about any number of things.

As the clock struck eight, Charlie stood up without even being told, and gave Murdoch a hug goodnight, and then one

to Johnny, who was sitting on the armrest of the couch.

"Goodnight, pequeno," he said.

"Goodnight. 'Night, Teresa," Charlie said.

"I'll be up in a few minutes," Scott said, and Charlie nodded, going up the stairs, and out of sight.

The four family members exchanged looks.

"Somethin's up with the kid," Johnny said, putting into words what they were all thinking.

"Yes," Murdoch said, looking concerned. "She was fine this morning when we drove to town. Or seemed to be, at any rate."

"She was pretty quiet when we were out ridin'," Johnny said. "Didn't even pester me to do any jumps."

Scott looked thoughtful, and looked up the stairs in the direction that Charlie had gone.

"And then she was askin' me all sorts of strange questions," Johnny went on.

"Like what?" Scott asked.

"Like-is it against the law to read another person's journal, or some such as that," Johnny said.

"That's strange," Teresa said.

"Yeah," Scott agreed.

When he went up the stairs a few minutes later, with 'Alice in Wonderland' tucked under his arm, he knocked

on the door of the bedroom that had become Charlie's.

"Yes," Charlie said, and Scott went in. Charlie was, instead of sitting on the bed as usual, lying down, the quilt already

pulled up to her chin.

"What's this?" Scott asked her, pausing beside the bed to look down at her. "Tired?"

"Yes," Charlie said.

Scott sat down on the bed. "Too tired to read?" he asked then.

"No," Charlie said, looking upset at that. "I mean, I want to hear you read."

"Alright," Scott said, and without any further talking, he opened the book where it had been marked, and began

to read.

Charlie put one arm under her head, and listened to him read, and when Scott had read half a chapter, he

put the bookmark in, and closed the book. He looked at Charlie, and she looked back at him.

"Do you have a stomach ache?" he asked her.

"No."

"Alright. I just want to make sure you're feeling okay."

Charlie was still, and quiet.

"Is there something bothering you?" he asked her. "Something you want to talk to me about?"

Charlie hesitated. "No."

Scott reached down and tucked the quilt tight around her, the way that she liked. "Sleep well, then, alright?"

He turned down the lamp, and waited a moment, thinking that Charlie might, in the safety of the semi-darkness, share

what was bothering her.

But she only said, "'Night, Scott."

L


	29. Fishing for answers

Two days passed, and still Charlie hadn't recovered her customary high spirits. She was quieter than usual, and often seemed lost in her

own thoughts. Sometimes, Scott noticed, she bit at her lip nervously, without seeming to realize it, while in those far away thoughts.

He and Johnny were digging fence post holes one morning, and the California heat, even this early, had prompted Johnny to shed his

shirt. And, though Scott had not yet done the same, his own shirt had come untucked from his pants, and he could feel the sweat

running down his back.

It was Johnny's turn to hold the post, while Scott used the hand auger to deepen the hole.

Johnny, who had been talking for the last quarter of an hour about Charlie, and the change in her demeanor, was saying, "I just

think somebody ought to be findin' out what's troubling her, that's all."

"I asked her," Scott said. "She didn't want to talk about it."

"Well, don't you figure that you might ought to ask her again?" Johnny insisted.

Scott paused in his tooth-jarring duty to give his younger brother a telling glance. "What do you suggest that I do?" he asked. "Turn her

upside down and try to shake whatever it is, out of her?"

"Sabelotodo," Johnny muttered.

Scott, whose understanding of all words Spanish was rudimentary, knew enough to know that whatever Johnny had said, was not likely

to be complimentary.

Therefore, he felt confident enough to throw it back. "Same as you, then," he said.

A look between, and then they both grinned at one another.

"You don't even know what it means," Johnny said. "Here. Let's trade."

They switched spots, and as Johnny began to twist the hand auger, Scott said, "I've been intending to talk to her again about it."

"Or," he said, in sudden suggestion, "You could give it a whirl. Try talking to her."

Johnny paused, and wiped his arm over his forehead. "Alright. I will."

L

After lunch, as they were scooting up their chairs to the table, Johnny caught Charlie, his hand looped thru the strap

of her overalls.

"How about you and me do some fishin'?" he asked her.

At first there was a sparkle in her eyes, and then it dulled. "I've never been," she said. "I wouldn't know how."

"Well, that's why I'll come along. To teach ya."

"Okay," Charlie said.

A short while later, they were walking to the creek, armed with fishing poles and a bucket for the worms.

Once on the creek bank, Johnny showed Charlie how to roll back the logs, and find the big worms underneath.

"Are there always that many?" she asked him.

"If it's been dry, then they like to be underneath there," he explained.

"Look at the size of this one, Johnny!" Charlie said, holding up one of impressive length.

"Uh huh," he said, and grinned at her. "If you get that excited about a big old worm, just wait until you catch a fish."

Once they'd found a number of worms, Johnny demonstrated how to put them on the hook.

"Want to try?" he asked. "Or do ya want me to do it for you?"

"I'll do it," Charlie said, with determination, and Johnny watched as she fumbled, and then finally succeeded in baiting her

own hook.

When they'd put their poles in the water, Johnny leaned back in the grass. "Now we sit. And we wait," he told her.

"Doesn't it get tiresome, though?" the child asked him. "Just sitting and waiting?"

"You're thinkin' of it the wrong way," Johnny told her. "Think of it more as, a chance to just sit in the quiet, and watch

nature goin' on all around you." He pointed across to the other side of the creek. "Look over there," he said.

Charlie looked across at the rabbits frolicking there, and then up at the squirrels in the tree overhead.

"You can listen to all the sounds the birds make," he went on. "People generally think of birds makin' just a chirping sound. But

different birds make all sorts of different sounds. You just have to listen."

After a few minutes of silence, Johnny said, "And, too, I've always found it to be a time to just be still, and get things

straight in my mind."

Charlie brought her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her knees. She gave Johnny a side-long glance.

"Sometimes that's hard," she said, sounding tentative. "Getting things straight in your mind."

"Sometimes it is," he agreed easily.

After a few more minutes of quiet, Charlie said, "What makes a person love another person?"

Johnny blew out a breath. "That's a complicated question, right there."

Charlie waited, watching him, and hugging her knees tighter to her chest.

"When a baby's born, it's just natural for the parents to love him. He's innocent, and he needs them. They get to watch him grow, and

their feelin's are all wrapped up with that."

"What if it's not a baby, though?" she asked.

"Well, sometimes when folks meet, they find out that they like things about one another. And then, the more time they spend together,

the liking can turn to love."

"So you have to like somebody first, in order to love them later?" she asked, looking at him earnestly.

Thinking that he was ill-equipped to answer properly, Johnny hesitated, hoping he said the right thing.

"Well, not always. Like, for instance, the baby we were talkin' about. The parents just naturally love him."

"What about besides the baby?" she asked.

"In my own experience, it's a lot easier to like somebody first. Before you love 'em."

"Like what?" Charlie asked.

"Like how Scott and I met. You know the story, right?"

"Yes. You didn't meet until you were all grown up. You didn't know about each other," Charlie said.

"Right." Johnny pulled a blade of grass, tearing it into strips as he talked. "So we didn't care too much for each other at first. Then,

we spent time together, and helped each other out, and that grew to liking."

"And then that grew to love. Right?" she asked.

"Yeah. That's right."

"And now, you're really glad you have each other, aren't you?" she asked, sounding forlorn.

"Really glad," he agreed, wondering what was going on inside Charlie's mind.

There was a tug on her fishing line, and Johnny coached her thru holding the pole, but not jerking it, until she'd pulled out

a fish.

"He's a nice sized one," Johnny encouraged her.

"Big enough to keep?" she asked, watching as he took the fish off the hook, and put it back into the edge of the water,

on another string.

"Sure, big enough to keep. We'll have him for supper tonight," he assured her.

When her hook was baited with another worm, and back in the water, they were silent for a few minutes.

"I don't love Katherine," Charlie said, eventually. "I don't even like her much. Does that make me a bad person?"

Johnny hesitated, searching for the right words. "No. I don't think it does."

"I know she doesn't like me, or love me either," Charlie went on.  
"Well, sometimes folks don't take to one another, I reckon," he said. "Love's not somethin' that can be forced. It has to come

on its own."

"I love you, though," Charlie said, sounding thoughtful, and looking at him. "I do."

Johnny felt his heart swell in feeling. "I love you, too, pequeno. An awful lot."

"And I love Scott. And Murdoch, and Teresa, and Maria. And I sort of love Jelly, too. A little bit. I guess Jelly and I are still in that 'liking' part

of it right now."

"Nothin' wrong with that," Johnny said.

"So what can make a person stop loving another person?" she asked then.

"Generally, I don't think people stop lovin' each other."

"But sometimes? They do?" she persisted.

"Sometimes, I guess they do."

"But like why? What's bad enough to make somebody stop loving you?" she asked, earnestly.

Johnny felt a change in the direction of the conversation. Something seemed off. He took his instinct that she was talking

about herself, and went with it.

"With adults, that might happen. If they find out that they don't care much for each other any longer. But, with a kid, well,

that wouldn't happen."

"Really?" Charlie asked him, and he heard the hope in her tone.

"Really."

He gave her a long look and said, "I'm one hundred percent positive."

"Oh," Charlie said, and looked back out towards the creek, hugging her knees to her chest again.

Johnny laid back on the creek bank a little, and pulled at another blade of grass.

"You're talkin' about yourself, aren't you?" he asked.

Charlie looked at him, in surprise at his correct guess, and then away again. She shrugged in answer.

"Let's just say that you are. Talkin' about yourself, I mean," he said. "There's nothin', not anything at all, that would

make any one of us stop caring about you."

"I think maybe so," she said softly, so softly that Johnny could barely catch the words.

"No, Charlie," he said firmly.

Charlie turned to face him, resting her cheek on her knee. "But I know how Scott feels about things. He does things right, and

he expects other people to do the same."

"He does," Johnny agreed.

"And, if I was to do something wrong, really wrong, against him, well, he might not love me anymore."

Johnny reached out and gathered the little girl to his chest. "That's the biggest load of nonsense I've ever heard," he said,

against the top of her head.

"You think so?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I know so. Don't even think it again."

Charlie leaned back a little, out of the crook of his arm, and reached into the pocket of her overalls, handing Johnny a smudged

envelope.

Johnny took it, looking at the back of it first. It might have started out white, but it was smudged, and bent from being folded. It hadn't been

opened. He turned it over, and saw the front, addressed to his brother. He smoothed the ridges on it, and looked at Charlie, a brow raised in question.

"I'm listening," he said, trying to sound calm.

So Charlie told him, in halting stops and starts, how she'd come to have the letter in her possession, and why.

"How can you be so certain it's from your aunt?" he asked.

"I know it is. She writes with her left hand, and her letters are all loopy like that."

"You don't know that's what it says," he pointed out. "That it's about you goin' back to Stockton. It might not be."

"What else would it be?" she asked him, looking hopeful again.

Johnny realized his mistake. "I don't know. It could be any number of things. But even if it is about you goin' back, that

doesn't make this right. You keeping it this way. It's wrong, Charlie. You know that already, don't you?"

Charlie hung her head, and nodded.

"You need to give it to Scott, right away," he said, and held it back out to her.

Charlie looked at the envelope in his hand, and then at his face, and didn't reach out to take it from him.

"Will you tell him?" she asked, though he could tell that she already knew what his answer would be.

"No. It's your responsibility."

At the anguish on her little face, Johnny, even though he knew that she'd done serious wrong, felt a pang of sympathy for

the kid.

L


	30. Facing up

They didn't stay long to fish after that. Charlie was quite plainly having a case of nerves, and Johnny suddenly wasn't in the mood

to fish any longer, either.

They gathered up the poles, and the bucket, now emptied of worms, and the one lone fish that Charlie had caught, and walked

back. They were near to the house, when they saw Jelly, Murdoch, Cip and Scott, all gathered around looking at something in the back of the

wagon.

"Somethin's up," Johnny said, intent on going over to see.

He realized that Charlie had come to a sudden, and total stop, holding the bucket in her hand.

"Come on, pequeno," he urged.

Charlie shook her head, just the barest of movements.

Johnny sighed, and walked back over to her. "It's not gonna make it go away, standin' here like this," he pointed out.

"I know," Charlie said, almost in a whisper.

"It's one of those times when you're just gonna have to face up to it, and take your licks," Johnny said.

Instantly, Charlie's face blanched. "You really think Scott will whip me?" she asked, looking terrified.

"I didn't mean it like that," Johnny said, feeling badly. "I just meant-well, 'take your licks' is a way of sayin' face

up to somethin' and take what comes to you."

"Oh," she said, still nearly in a whisper.

"So?" Johnny prompted. "Come on," he added kindly, and held out his hand.

Charlie took the offered hand, and they walked together the rest of the distance to the wagon, to join the group

of men.

"Set your eyes on that, Johnny," Jelly said, in a triumphant voice, when he saw Johnny.

There was a large, a really large, pig in the bag of the wagon, housed in a wooden crate.

"Found her, just out wanderin'," Jelly said.

Johnny whistled in appreciation. "She's a beauty, alright," he said.

"I don't think you should plan on keeping her," Murdoch said, in a cautionary way. "She likely belongs to someone."

"Well, we'll see," Jelly said, not looking concerned.

Murdoch gave a raised eyebrow, and then turned to Charlie and his youngest son.

"How was the fishing?" he asked them.

Charlie was quiet, and Johnny held up the string with the lone fish on it. "Right here," he said.

"That's it?" Jelly scoffed. "All day on a creek bank and that's what you come home with?"

"Maybe you'd ought to be putting the pig up," Murdoch said, and Jelly grumbled under his breath, and climbed up on the

wagon seat, clucking to the horse.

Cip exchanged a few quick words with Murdoch, and when Johnny and Charlie were left with just Murdoch and Scott,

Murdoch spoke again. "Well, if you're only going to catch one fish, at least it's a nice-sized one."

"I can't take any credit for it," Johnny said. "Charlie's the one that caught it."

Murdoch smiled at Charlie. "That's fine, sweetheart," he said. "Your first time fishing was a success."

Charlie looked at Murdoch, and gave the merest of nods, but was quiet.

"Did you have fun?" Scott asked her then.

Charlie nodded again. "Yes," she said, still holding onto Johnny's hand.

"Perhaps we can cajole Maria to cook your catch for supper," Murdoch told Charlie. "You could go and ask her."

"Okay," Charlie said, and Johnny instantly felt her recognize her chance at prolonging her talk with Scott. She released his hand, and

moved quickly to reach for the fish that he held, in order to take it inside to Maria.

"Wait a minute, pequeno," he said.

Charlie paused, and dropped the hand that had been reaching for the fish. Her face looked pinched in panic again.

"The thing is," Johnny said, ignoring the protesting tug of her small hand on the waist of his shirt, "Charlie has somethin' she needs to talk

to you about, Scott."

Scott looked from his brother, to Charlie's worried face.

"Do you?"

Charlie stared at Scott, her eyes wide in worry, and then sighed. "Yes," she said.

"Can I talk to you for a second first, Scott?" Johnny asked, and when Scott looked at him in surprise, Johnny gave a small

nod, and tried to convey his feelings in his eyes.

When he and Scott had walked just to the side of the house, out of earshot of Charlie and Murdoch, who had gone to sit at the

outdoor table, Johnny turned to face his brother.

"What's going on?" Scott asked.

"She wants to talk to you," Johnny began, and then amended, "Well, she needs to."

"Alright," Scott asked and raised an eyebrow. "So you found out what's been worrying her?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Scott said, and waited a moment. "So what is it?"

"I told her I won't tell you. That she needed to do it herself," Johnny said.

"Alright. So what's this about?" he asked, gesturing to himself and then to Johnny. "You wanting to talk to me first?"

Johnny shifted from one foot to the other, and then sighed. "The thing is, I thought you should know that she's afraid

when she tells you, that you won't care about her anymore."

Scott was quiet for a moment, studying his younger brother's face. "She said that?"

"Yeah. She did."

"I've never given her any reason to think that-" Scott began, looking puzzled.

"I know that," Johnny interrupted him. "She's not thinkin' straight like that. She's not used to havin' people be there for her, that

say what they mean and mean what they say. That's all."

Scott took in what Johnny said, and then was quiet for a long few moments, looking thoughtful.

"I'm not sayin' it's my business, exactly," Johnny went on. "But maybe, you could go easy on her. This time. She's plenty worried."

Scott regarded his brother with a studied frown, and then said, "The thing is, whatever it is that's she's done, she's going to

remember what I say to her today, for a long time afterwards. I need to make sure that I say enough."

Johnny returned the serious look, and then nodded a bit, with a sigh. "Fair enough," he said.

"Alright," Scott said, and walked back over to where his father and Charlie sat, Johnny following him.

Instantly, as the two men walked up, Charlie's face showed her worry.

Scott took the chair opposite his father, with Charlie sitting just to his right. Johnny cleared his throat and then

walked behind the chair that Charlie sat in, running his hand over her hair. And then he went inside.

"I'll leave you two to your talking," Murdoch said, and began to stand up.

"Will you stay, Murdoch?" Charlie asked, and at Murdoch's hesitation, she added, "Please?"

Murdoch looked across the table at his oldest, and Scott gave a brief nod.

"What do you need to tell me?" Scott asked, looking at the little girl. He kept his tone even, but serious.

"You got a letter," Charlie said.

Scott waited, not immediately understanding.

"It was the day I went with Murdoch to town," Charlie said, letting her gaze slide from Scott to Murdoch, and then back to

Scott again.

"He said I could go get the mail, so I did, and you-got a letter."

Scott wrinkled his forehead, puzzled. "I did?" he asked.

Charlie nodded, her little face lined in misery. "It was in Katherine's handwriting," she said, by way of explanation.

Then she was quiet, and even though it was only a moment or two that passed, Scott began to put the pieces together.

His look was stony, and stern. Seeing that, Charlie said in haste, "I was worried about what it would say. So I kept it."

Scott let out a long sigh, and Charlie said, "I know it was wrong-"

"Where is the letter?" he asked her.

Charlie reached into her pocket, and took out the by-now crumpled, smudged envelope. Scott held his hand out, and Charlie

put it into his outstretched hand.

Scott gave the letter a brief glance, and then laid it on the table. He ran his hand over his face, trying to think. He looked across at

his father, but Murdoch sat back, his hands folded, and Scott could tell that he was not going to offer any words, unless asked, though Murdoch

looked pensive and regretful.

Scott reached out, and took hold of Charlie's hand, and pulled her up from her chair, and over to stand directly in front of

him.

"You tell me you that you've never stolen anything from the stores, even when your friends did," he reminded her.

"I haven't!" Charlie assured him, her cheeks bright with color.

"And when you told me that, it was something that you were proud to be able to say. The fact that you've never stolen

anything. Is that right? You take pride in that?" Scott asked.

Charlie nodded, looking puzzled by the direction of his questioning.

"Alright. But taking the letter, and keeping it like you did? That's stealing, Charlie."

Charlie's big eyes ran over Scott's face, and he could read the emotions. Her first reaction was to not want to believe what he

was saying.

"It is," he said firmly. "It's stealing. When you take something of someone else's, whether it's from a store, or

their home, or even a letter that's addressed to them, that is stealing."

Charlie bit at her lip, and then her eyes filled with tears.

"I didn't-think of it like that," she said.

Scott sat back in the chair, and crossed his arms, giving Charlie a long look.

"What did you accomplish by doing this?" he asked her, and again, Charlie looked a little puzzled.

"By keeping the letter so I wouldn't read it, for how many days? Two? What did that accomplish?" he restated.

"I don't know-" she said, hesitating.

"Is it going to change what the letter says?" he asked her pointedly.

"No," Charlie said, just above a whisper.

Scott was quiet again for a couple of moments, and then he put his hands on Charlie's waist, pulling her closer.

Remembering his brother's words a few minutes before, he met Charlie's eye, and said, "I love you. And I'm always going

to love you. No matter what." He waited a couple of moments to let his words sink in. "That doesn't mean that this is okay, what you've done.

It's wrong. And I'm disappointed in you. Very disappointed."

Charlie, who had looked a bit more hopeful by his words of love, now looked dejected again. Her lower lip trembled.

"How can I fix it?" she asked, plaintively.

"It's not something that be fixed quickly. If you want people to trust you, then you have to maintain that trust. When it's

damaged, then it can take awhile to get it back," Scott said.

Charlie rubbed at the tears on her cheek.

"You go upstairs, and get a bath," Scott told her. "You smell like a fish."

His tone had been light, when speaking about the fishy smell on her hands and overalls, and Charlie took note of it.

"I'm sorry for what I did, Scott," she said.

"I'm sorry, too," he said.

Charlie looked puzzled again, by his comment.

"After your bath, you sit in your room," he said. "I'll be up later."

Her face became wrinkled with worry again. "Scott?"

"What?"

Charlie opened her mouth, intent on speaking, but then gave a sad shake of her head. "Nothing."

"Alright." Scott took his hand from her waist, and gave Charlie a light swat on the seat of her overalls. "Go on."

Though the swat didn't hurt, it caught Charlie by surprise, and Scott saw that mirrored in her face. She looked at Murdoch, and

then gave Scott a last apprehensive glance before going inside the house.

L


	31. Surprise visitor

After Charlie had gone, Scott and Murdoch sat in silence for a few moments. Before he did speak, Scott looked

across the table. Murdoch returned the look, but was quiet.

"What do you think?" he asked his father.

Murdoch looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure just what to think," he said.

"No. Neither am I," Scott admitted.

After a couple of moments, Scott picked up the envelope, and opened it, taking out the single page inside. He read quickly, silently,

and then handed it across to Murdoch.

When Murdoch had finished reading, he laid the envelope down again, shaking his head just very slightly.

"That's somewhat of a surprise, isn't it?" he asked.

"It is," Scott agreed.

"Why, do you think?" Murdoch asked. "Because of your visit to the lawyer?"

"That's all I can think of."

"So," Murdoch said, picking up the letter again, and scanning it. "Tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," Scott said, leaning back in the chair.

"We'd best be talking to Maria, and to Teresa. See what we can arrange for a guest room, and some meals," Murdoch said.

"I think having her stay at the hotel in town would be best," Scott said.

Murdoch was quiet, his expression pensive.

"No?" Scott asked. "You don't agree?"

"I haven't met her, of course," Murdoch said. "But it might go a long way towards positive relations with her, if she were asked

to stay here."

"I'll ask her," Scott said. "Though I doubt she'll accept."

"The effort will speak for itself," Murdoch said.

After another moment of silence, Scott said, "Charlie's not going to be pleased about Katherine coming here."

Murdoch smiled. "No," he agreed.

Scott sighed, and ran his hand over the letter. "How tough should I be with her?" he asked his father.

"What does your instinct say?" Murdoch returned.

"To be tough," Scott said, sounding regretful. Then he hesitated, and added, "Well. I don't know."

"Well," Murdoch said. "Sometimes, son, the hardest thing and the right thing, are the same thing."

Their eyes met across the table, and Scott nodded.

After that, the two men went inside the house, and to Murdoch's library, where they found Johnny, his booted foot crossed

at one knee, and drinking a whiskey. He raised his glass as Scott and Murdoch came in.

"Want one?" he asked.

"I do," Scott said, and Johnny got up, going to pour two glasses of whiskey, handing them off to his father and brother, and then

refilling his own.

Scott sat down on the sofa, and Murdoch went to sit in the chair behind his desk.

"How'd it go, with the kid?" Johnny asked.

"It went," Scott said, in answer.

"Well," Johnny said, going back to sit down on the other end of the sofa. "At least she told ya."

When Scott was silent, Johnny prompted, "Isn't that right? I mean, she could have kept quiet about it."

"She could have," Scott said.

"So she's tryin'," Johnny pointed out. "It was hard for her, but she owned up to it."

Scott looked at Johnny, and then his father, his eyebrow raised. "No doubt where Johnny stands, is there?" he said lightly.

"No," Murdoch agreed, with a smile, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

"I'm just tryin' to make sure you have all the facts, that's all," Johnny defended himself.

"Katherine's coming here," Scott told him then.

"She is?" Johnny looked shocked. "That what was in the letter?"

At Scott's nod, Johnny went on. "Why? There has to be a motive behind it. That woman wouldn't do something like that without

having a reason of her own."

"I think possibly because of my visit to see Mr. Beets. The lawyer. He must have told her she should show more interest

in Charlie's life. Something like that. At least that's what I think," Scott said.

"You've hit it dead on," Johnny said, in agreement. He shook his head, echoing his brother's earlier statement. "The kid not gonna be

happy about it."

"Nope," Scott said.

"What are you gonna do?" Johnny asked then, and there was no question that he was talking now about Charlie's punishment.

"I don't know," Scott said. He finished his drink, and then stood up, setting the glass down on the desk. "I think I'll take a walk," he said.

A few moments later, Murdoch and Johnny heard the front door open and then close.

L

Scott walked for a long time. He wasn't certain just how long. When he finally came back to the house, Maria was

dishing up the supper.

He went upstairs, and tapped lightly on Charlie's bedroom door. There was no answer, and he opened the door a few inches, looking

in. Charlie was curled up on the bed, in a clean pair of denims and white blouse. Her hair was still in its tangled braid from earlier. She was

facing the wall, and Scott could hear her sniffling.

"Charlie?" he said, and immediately the little girl turned, and then sat up quickly on the bed, rubbing at her wet face, and looking

at Scott tremulously.

Scott came closer, to stand just beside the bed. "Did you have a bath?" he asked.

Charlie nodded.

"Have you been doing some thinking?" he asked then.

Charlie nodded again. "Yes," she said, quietly.

"Alright." Scott sat down on the edge of the bed. "Since you know that it was wrong to keep the letter like you did, and you know why it was wrong,"

then I don't think we need to talk about that." He gave Charlie a long, serious look. "I also know why you did it."

Charlie regarded him, big-eyed, and Scott didn't miss the bit of nerves that passed over her face. She was 'plenty worried' as

Johnny had phrased it earlier.

He could remember, as a child, being terrified of his grandfather's anger. Fearful of what would happen when he'd done something

wrong, something to displease the older man.

"Come here," he told the little girl, motioning to the spot in front of him.

Charlie looked reluctant, but slid from the bed to the floor, and took the few steps to stand in front of him. Scott put his hands

on her waist, and pulled her closer, and then held her there.

"It's not easy, being in the position, as an adult, to have to punish," Scott told her.

"It's not easy as a kid, either," Charlie said, with fervor, her eyes big on his face, and Scott had to hide a smile of amusement.

"No," he acknowledged. "I remember. It's not."

"Can I say something to you?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. You can."

"I-do understand that what I did was wrong. I knew it almost right away. And it made me feel bad inside. Sort of-" she hesitated. "Sort of

sick feeling."

"That's your conscience," Scott said.

"What's that?"

"It's like a little voice inside your head that tells you when you're doing something that's wrong," Scott told her. "It can come in

mighty handy at times."

He studied Charlie intently, and then said, "It's time for supper. After you've eaten, you can fetch some paper from Murdoch's desk,

and come back up to your room. I expect you to write lines. Fifty lines saying, 'I will listen to my conscience and do what's right'."

"Fifty?" Charlie asked, looking distressed.

"Fifty."

"What if I don't get them done tonight?" she asked.

"Then in the morning, after your breakfast, you'll come back up here and finish them."

Charlie bit at her lip, looking at his face.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

"Yes, Scott," she said.

"Alright." He moved her aside, and stood up. "Let's go down," he said.

At the door of her bedroom, Charlie looked up at him. "Scott?"

"What?"

"How do you spell 'conscience'?"

L

Scott took a moment to take his brother and father aside before the meal, and tell them he hadn't broken the news to Charlie about

her aunt coming the next day.

"I'll tell her at bedtime," he said.

"It might be just as well to wait until morning," Murdoch said, and at Scott's questioning glance, he added, "Let her get some

sleep that way."

"Spoken like a doting grandfather," Johnny said.

During the meal, other things were discussed, but the subject of the kept letter, and the impending visit from Katherine, as

well as Charlie's restriction to her room, were all not mentioned.

Seeing that Charlie had finished her meal, Scott prompted her along. "Go and get some paper, and a pencil, and get started."

Charlie nodded, and got up, without saying anything, but going towards the library. A few minutes later, they heard her come back

past, and go up the stairs.

When the clock had chimed eight times, Scott took 'Alice in Wonderland' and went upstairs to Charlie's room.

He tapped lightly, and then opened the door. Charlie was seated at the small desk in the room, writing vigorously. She turned

to look at Scott, surprised.

"Is it eight o'clock already?" she asked.

"Uh huh," he said, coming to sit on the bed.

"But-I only got thirty-two or thirty-three of them done!" she said.

"Well, you can finish them in the morning, like we discussed earlier."

"But-I wanted to get them done! I want to do other things in the morning!" Charlie said, visibly upset.

"You'll have to do those other things after you finish the lines," Scott said calmly.

Charlie gave him a look, quite plainly disgruntled by his comment, but she was silent.

"Come on," Scott said, patting the spot beside him on the bed. "Let's see what adventures Alice gets up to tonight."

Charlie gave the paper on the desk a frustrated push, but she obeyed, coming over to sit beside Scott. She sighed

heavily. "I don't like writing lines," she said, in a low tone.

Scott had opened 'Alice in Wonderland' to the spot that they'd read up to the evening before. At Charlie's complaint, he reclosed the

book again, and looked at her. "Punishments aren't meant to be enjoyable," he said mildly.

"Yes, I know, but-" she hesitated.

"What?"

"Fifty lines is an awful lot," she said, picking at the fabric of her nightgown. "I'd learn my lesson just as well with thirty-five or so."

She peeked up at Scott from the corner of her eye.

"We'll stick with the fifty," he said.

"But-" she began to protest.

"The only change I'll make in the amount is, to add to it," Scott said, making his voice stern.

Charlie gaped at him, horrified. "Please don't do that, Scott!"

"Then I don't want to hear any more complaints about it. Understood?"

With the look of a child who'd been mastered, Charlie gave a nod. "Yes."

"Alright." He studied her. "So, should we read?"

At Charlie's subdued nod, Scott opened the book again, and began reading. At the close of the chapter, Scott marked the

page, and closed the book.

When Charlie had been tucked under the blankets, and was looking up at him, Scott said, "I read the letter, earlier."

Immediately Charlie looked tense, and worried again.

"Your Aunt Katherine is coming here. To visit," Scott said.

Charlie looked stunned. "Why?" she asked.

"I don't know. I just know that she is."

"To visit? And then she'll leave? And I can stay for awhile longer?" Charlie asked, hopefully.

"I don't know that either. She didn't say anything about that."

"When is she coming?"

"Tomorrow. On the stage," Scott said.

"So soon?" Charlie asked.

"Well, it seems soon," Scott agreed, then added, "We would have known a few days ago, if I'd gotten the letter when it was

sent."

Charlie's face flushed high in guilty color. "Oh," she said, in a small voice.

"So," Scott said, "We'll show her our home, so she can see all the things you do while you're here. Alright?"

"I guess," Charlie said, without enthusiasm.

Scott figured as that would be the best response that he would get, at that point, anyway. He leaned down, and kissed

Charlie's forehead.

"Sleep well," he said, and turned down the lamp.

L


	32. Ice arrives

When he woke up the next morning, it took Scott a few moments to remember why he felt a sense of dread, already hanging over

the day.

Then it came to him. Katherine was coming. Here, to Lancer.

When he was dressed, and had gone downstairs, he found Teresa and Murdoch already at the breakfast table.

"Morning," he said, in greeting, sitting down.

"Good morning," Murdoch said, while Teresa gave him a smile.

Scott poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the table, as Maria was bringing in a platter heaped with scrambled eggs

and sausage.

"I checked on Charlie this morning," Teresa said, sipping at her glass of juice. "She was scribbling away at those sentences you told her

to write. I told her to come down to breakfast, and she said she'd eat later."

"Hmm," Scott said. He got up and left the dining room, going to the foot of the stairs, and calling upstairs.

"Charlie!" He waited a moment and then prepared to call her name again. Before he could, Charlie appeared at the top

of the stairs, leaning over the railing.

"Yes, Scott?" she said.

"Time for breakfast. Come on down now."

"I'm not very hungry this morning," Charlie replied.

Scott put a hand on the newel of the banister. "Charlie," he said, and then added, in a firm tone, "Come and eat

your breakfast."

Charlie regarded him from her height above him, and Scott could see the struggle of whether to argue or to obey, on her face.

"Okay," she said, and came down the stairs toward him.

By this time, Johnny was coming to the table, pulling out his chair, and reaching for the platter of eggs.

"Weather's strange this mornin'," he said, in conversation.

"The sun is out," Teresa said. "What's strange about that?"

"The wind feels weird. I think we're in for a storm later."

"Oh, nonsense," Teresa scoffed a little.

"Wait and see," Johnny told her.

"I'll bet you an apple pie that there's no storm," Teresa said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Cherry. And you're on," Johnny said.

"You can gather the eggs for me for a week when I win the bet," Teresa said.

"Humph," Johnny said.

When Maria came in again, this time bringing a plate of cinnamon rolls, Murdoch asked her, "What do you have planned for

the evening meal, since we'll have a guest?"

Maria paused, a hand on one hip. "Carne asada con verduras," she said. "Si?"

"Si," Murdoch answered, with a smile for her.

Charlie, who was eating her eggs that Johnny had scooped onto her plate, was silent.

"What time are you goin' to town to meet the stage?" Johnny asked Scott.

"Shortly before noon," Scott said.

"Would you like me to go instead?" Murdoch asked him.

The idea was appealing to Scott. It truly was. It would prolong him having to be in Katherine's company, without the buffer

of the rest of the family around.

Still, it wasn't right to ask his father to do so.

"I'll go," he said.

Then he thought of Charlie, sitting there listening to the conversation. He knew she had to be feeling dread, more so than himself.

"We could go early enough to get some lunch in town," he told Charlie. "Would you want to do that?"

Charlie looked up, a startled expression on her face. "What?" she asked.

"I said, I thought we might get some lunch before the stage arrives," Scott said.

Charlie looked at him, her fork paused in mid-air. "No, thank you," she said, and looked down at her plate again.

Murdoch gave Scott a perplexed glance.

"Well, alright. In the late morning sometime, make sure you're washed up and change your clothes if you need to," Scott told her.

"I don't want to go," Charlie said, in a low voice. "I'd rather stay here."

Now the entire table of adults were exchanging looks over Charlie's bent head.

For a moment or more, Scott was unsure of how to answer. Finally, he said, "I think you should. Come with me to meet the stage, I mean."

Charlie laid her fork to the side of her plate. "Do I have to?" she asked, in a direct way, looking right at Scott.

Hesitating, again, and then Scott said, "Well, no. I guess you don't, if you'd rather not."

"I'd rather not," the little girl said, and then said, "May I be excused?"

Scott, seeing that she hadn't finished her eggs, was about to tell her to do so, when he saw his father shake his head, just the

slightest bit.

"Yes, you can be excused," Scott said, and Charlie got up, pushing in her chair neatly to the table, and going out, and toward the stairs.

When she'd gone, the four were quiet for a moment, and then Johnny said, in defense, "You can't blame her. Wantin' to put it off

as long as she's able to."

When no one said anything in answer, Johnny added, "I mean, it's totally understandable." He looked at his older brother, waiting

for a response.

"I didn't say a word about it," Scott said.

The morning's work took precedence then, over any reluctance on their part concerning the visitor soon to arrive.

When Scott came into the coolness of the house, a few hours later, after not finding Charlie outdoors anywhere, he went first to the kitchen expecting to see

her there with Maria, helping to bake.

When there was no child there, but only the housekeeper, he asked, "Has Charlie been helping you?"

"No. No la he visto desde el desayuno," she replied, stopping in her kneading of bread to look at Scott.

Scott nodded. "Thanks."

Instead of going directly to his own room, in order to change to a clean shirt, Scott paused at the closed door across

the hall. He tapped lightly, and then opened the door.

Charlie was sitting on her bed, cross-legged, notepaper all around her. She looked up at Scott, and immediately he saw

a flicker of worry cross her face.

"Here you are," he said lightly. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to."

Charlie just looked at him, not answering.

Scott crossed the room nearer to the bed. "What are you doing?"

"My lines," she said.

"Still?" he asked, surprised. "I thought you only had fifteen or so left last night to do."

When Charlie gave a small nod, he said, with a glance down at the papers, "You should have been done long ago."

"It's just taking awhile," she said vaguely.

"Oh." He studied her face. "I'm going to change my shirt, and then get around to head into town. Are you sure you

won't come along with me?"

"You said I had to do these," the little girl said. "Before I could do anything else."

Scott began to suspect there was something brewing in her mind, but he suddenly didn't feel like trying to uncover it

at that particular moment.

"Right," he conceded. "I did say that."

He turned to go, pausing at the doorway. "I know you're nervous about your aunt coming here. But, it's going to be

alright."

He'd meant to sound reassuring, and was surprised when Charlie, without looking up from her writing, said, "I'm not

nervous about it."

Thinking he'd misheard her, he said, "What?"

Charlie looked up now. "I don't want her to come. But, I'm not nervous about it."

"Alright," Scott said. He knew that Charlie needed some attention, some straightening out perhaps, but he didn't have

the time right then.

"I'll see you later then," he said.

Charlie nodded, and looked back at her papers.

Scott closed the door behind him, and stood in the hall, and gave a deep sigh.

L

The stage was late in arrival. Late enough that Scott had time to sit at the restaurant, drinking coffee and talking

with Val.

When Scott had told him about Katherine arriving for a visit, Val gave a low whistle.

"This story just has layer after layer to it," he said. "Sort of like an onion."

"That's one way of saying it," Scott agreed.

"This aunt married?" Val asked.

"No. She was. She's a widow, I guess."

"Good looking woman?" Val asked then.

"Extremely," Scott said.

"But?" Val said, hearing the unspoken in Scott's words.

"But-she's cold. Unreachable. You know? Not real."

"Mmm," Val said, and drank down his coffee.

After a couple of moments of quiet, Val said, "Hard to believe that scruffy little kid that hopped off the train that

day is some sort of an heiress."

"Yeah," Scott said quietly.

The door to the restaurant was opened, and a blast of dust blew in. "Stage is comin'," a man announced, and shut

the door again.

Scott got up, laying coins on the table to pay for the coffee. Val got up, as well, settling his hat onto his head.

"I'll walk along with you," he told Scott. "I want to get a look at this woman for myself."

L

When the stage pulled to a jerky stop, and the passengers began to descend, the ladies being helped to the ground by

the second man, who rode with the driver, Scott stood beside Val, waiting.

Katherine was the third passenger off, following a man and his wife. She accepted the help that was offered, and then

gathered her skirts, and pressed a hand to her cheek.

Scott stepped forward, off of the wooden sidewalk. "Hello, Katherine."

"Hello," the woman said, sounding somewhat shell-shocked, after her bumpy ride.

"Do you have bags?" Scott asked her.

"Yes," she said, gesturing towards the upper part of the stage.

As the bags began to be untied and tossed to the ground, Scott said, "Katherine, this is my friend, Val. He's the sheriff here."

"I see," Katherine said, and focused her gaze upon Val.

She took a handkerchief from her black purse, and then clasped it shut again.

"That must be-an interesting line of work," she said to Val, patting at her face with the handkerchief.

"It surely does have its moments," Val said.

"Yes. Well," Katherine said, and then stood looking at the two men, silent.

"We'll get your bags, and then we'll be on our way," Scott said, and then felt ridiculous at his choice of words.

"Fine," Katherine said. "I have five bags in all."

"Five?" Val asked, in undisguised surprise.

"Yes, five," Katherine said, giving him a glance that would have wilted a less sturdy man.

"Which ones?" Scott asked, and Katherine began to point at various bags that were now setting on the ground. Between Val

and Scott, they carried the bags to the waiting buggy, and Scott stowed them in the back, finding it a tight fit to squeeze them all in.

Val touched his hat in deference. "Afternoon, ma'm."

"Good afternoon, Sheriff," Katherine said.

Scott helped Katherine into the buggy, climbing in after her. Then, as Katherine was straightening her skirts, the two

men exchanged a look, unseen by her.

Val raised an eyebrow, and said, "Hope you have a pleasant evening."

Scott got Val's hidden meaning, on the cusp of sarcasm, plainly believing that it would be hard-pressed to have a pleasant

evening that included Katherine.

"You're welcome to come out and take supper with us," Scott offered, returning the sarcasm.

"Oh, that's a real nice offer, Scott," Val said, amusement in his eyes, "It really is. But I've got some things to do

that I've been putting off. I sure appreciate it, though."

Katherine, her skirts straightened by now, was sitting, her gloved hands in her lap. "Shall we be going?" she said to Scott. "This

heat is surely oppressive."

Scott nodded to Val, and put the buggy into motion, with a flick of the reins.

Several moments passed in silence, until they were well outside of town. "My brother swears there's going to be

a storm today," Scott said, making conversation.

"Really?"

"So he says, anyway."

"How is Charlotte?" Katherine said, in an abrupt change of conversation.

"She's fine. She's been busy."

"Really? Doing what?" Katherine asked.

"She's been doing quite a bit of horseback riding," Scott said.

Katherine nodded, but was quiet.

"And she has the things that she likes to do everyday," Scott went on. "Like playing with the cats. She's been helping Maria, our housekeeper,

to bake. And cook, as well." He thought for a moment. "She's been learning to drive a buggy. My father's been teaching her."

"A buggy?" Katherine asked, looking surprised. "Like this one?"

"This very one," Scott said. "She really enjoys that."

"And, in your opinion, Mr. Lancer, how are those things going to help Charlotte? I admit that driving a buggy is knowledge

that might be valuable in life. But horseback riding, and playing with cats? And cooking? She'll never have the need to do her

own cooking. Her financial status will ensure that."

Scott took a long moment to answer. For one thing, he'd thought that they were past the "Mr. Lancer" and "Mrs. Burch" stage, and

had at least progressed to "Scott" and "Katherine". Apparently not. Ah, well.

"Well, as far as the cooking and baking goes," he said, "I think that's a valuable skill to have, irregardless of financial status. Everybody

should know how to cook."

"I don't," she said, flatly, with a raise of her perfectly plucked eyebrow. "And I don't feel that I've been negatively

affected by that."

"Well," he said, and then settled for, "Charlie seems to enjoy it."

When she was silent, he went on, "And the horseback riding? Well, she's definitely a natural at that. Like she was born to it." He felt

bound to add, "And she did know how to do that before she began visiting with us."

"That was her mother's influence. I had nothing to do with it," Katherine said.

Scott surpressed the urge to answer that with a sharp response. Something along the lines of Katherine having done nothing

that contributed to Charlie's happiness.

He held his tongue, however.

"What about social occasions?" Katherine went on. "Has Charlotte had any opportunities to meet young people her age?"

Again, Scott had to control his temper. This, from the woman who had no idea where Charlie was at most of the time? Or what

things she was getting up to? He recognized, however, that Katherine was doing her best to bait him. So he responded

as calmly as he could, "She's met one little girl, that's close to her age."

He saw no need to add that Charlie and the other child hadn't gotten along especially well.

"Well, of course, she'll be going back to school soon, and she'll be making friends there," Katherine went on.

Feeling as though he'd been kicked in the gut, Scott preceded with caution, though he was fairly certain of the answers

that he would get.

"In Stockton?" he asked, knowing full well that wasn't her intent.

"No. Of course not. She'll never be able to break free of that gang of street urchins that she insists upon friending. Not if she

stays and goes to school in Stockton."

"Where are you thinking of? For her to attend school?" Scott asked.

"There's a wonderful boarding school in Denver."

"That's a mighty distance," Scott couldn't help commenting.

Katherine looked at him, as if to suggest that she saw no problem with that.

"How do you know it's a wonderful school?" he asked then, looking outward towards the horse's back.

"Excuse me?"

"I asked, how do you know it's a wonderful school?" he persisted.

"Well, because," she said, sounding irritated. "I've done research. I've spoken to people."

"Do you have plans to go and visit there, before you make a final decision?" he asked.

Again, Katherine looked a bit surprised, and he could tell that she had no intention at all of visiting the Denver school.

When she replied, "Well, certainly I do," Scott had to struggle mightily to keep from calling her out as a liar, right to her face.

Instead, he gathered together any instincts he had to be an actor, and said, "Well, of course you do. That was a foolish thing for me

to ask you. As Charlie's guardian, you wouldn't even think of sending her that far on a train by herself, especially without

seeing the school firsthand, yourself." He forced himself to meet Katherine's gaze.

He saw that he'd gotten to her, and she regarded him with icy gray eyes, and then said, "Tell me about your ranch, Scott."

L


	33. Press on

When Lancer finally came into view, Scott felt a huge sense of relief. He pulled the buggy up near to the front of the house,

and stopped.

"Well," Katherine said, and Scott could see that she was somewhat surprised by the size of the house. "It's very nice."

"We like it," Scott said simply, and helped her down from the buggy.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Johnny step from the barn, take a look, and then disappear swiftly back in.

Scott made a mental note to take that up with his brother later. The least Johnny could have done was come to give him

some support.

Murdoch was there, however, opening the front door and coming out. He held out a hand to Katherine in greeting.

"Mrs. Burch," he said. "Welcome to our home."

Katherine took the offered hand. "Thank you, Mr. Lancer," she said. She gave Murdoch a dazzling smile, which made Scott want

to shake his head.

"I thought it was time that I saw this place that Charlotte thinks is the best on earth," she said, effusively.

"We're pleased to have you," Murdoch said. "Come in, please." He held out a hand to allow Katherine to go inside in front of him.

When Murdoch looked back, Scott said, "I'll bring in the bags."

He was unloading the bags, and taking his time about it, trying to collect his equiliberan, and settle his nerves. Again, out of the corner of

his eye, he saw Johnny, taking a step out of the barn cautiously.

He motioned to his brother to come to him. Johnny shook his head. "Not until the coast is clear," he called across the yard.

"It's clear," Scott said.

Johnny came then, the grin on his face somewhat sheepish. "Hey there," he said, in an off-hand way.

"Hiding in the barn?" Scott asked, taking out the last bag. "That's a bit much, isn't it?"

"No. I don't think so," Johnny said, and grinned at Scott again. He took a long look towards the front door. "How's the

dragon lady?" he asked.

"She's sharpened her claws," Scott said, and then felt a little ashamed. How could he expect Charlie to accept Katherine being

here, when he himself had such an outlook of it?

"Need to make the best of it," he said then, looking at his younger brother. "I need to watch what I say. And do."

Johnny studied Scott for a long moment, looking serious now. "Fair enough," he said. "I'm with ya. I can try, anyway."

"Thanks," Scott said, and Johnny clamped a hand on Scott's shoulder.

"You'll owe me, though," Johnny said.

L

When the buggy had been put away, and the bags had been carried into the house, Scott and Johnny stacked them beside the front door.

"So she's stayin' here then?" Johnny asked, is a low tone.

"I don't know. We didn't get to any details on the ride out from town," Scott said. "Maybe Murdoch did."

Hearing the voices of Katherine and their father, the two went to the doorway of Murdoch's library, where Katherine was

seated on the end of the sofa, and Murdoch sat across from her in one of the big chairs.

"Where's Charlie?" Johnny asked, in a near whisper to Scott.

"See if you can find her, would you?" Scott said, in an aside.

"She's not with the cats," Johnny said. At his brother's adamant glance, he sighed. "But, I'll go look 'round."

When Johnny had gone, Scott came on into the room, and went, without embarrassment, to pour himself a drink of

the bourbon left on the desk.

Katherine, he saw, held a glass of something in her hand, as well.

He was struck with the sudden question of whether a drink or two might mellow Katherine somewhat.

He took a seat in the other chair, facing both Katherine and his father. He looked to Murdoch for any confirmation of

information he might have garnered.

"Mrs. Burch feels she'd be more comfortable staying in town at the hotel," Murdoch said.

"Alright," Scott said, feeling a sense of relief that he tried not to show.

"I've been telling your father that I find your ranch, what I've seen of it, to be very impressive," Katherine said to Scott.

Scott nodded, unsure of how to answer that wouldn't sound as though he was bragging.

"Do you ride, Mrs. Burch?" Murdoch was asking.

"Horseback? Oh, no," Katherine said, with her 'society' laugh.

"Well, we can show you around the ranch by wagon," Murdoch suggested.

"There's no need to go to all that trouble," Katherine dismissed Murdoch's suggestion. "If you'd care to give me a tour of

the house later on, however, that would be fine."

"Of course," Murdoch said, without blinking an eye.

Katherine turned her attention to Scott. "And where is Charlotte?" she asked.

Not wanting to admit that he had no idea, really, just where Charlie was at that particular moment, Scott said simply, "Johnny went

to fetch her."

"I was so hoping that she would be here to greet me when I arrived," Katherine said, turning her eyes to Murdoch, in what Scott felt was

an obvious bid to garner his sympathy.

"She'll be right along," Scott said, trying to sound confident.

Still addressing herself to Murdoch, Katherine went on, "I'm distressed to say that Charlotte and I don't always-well, find our way to

understanding one another at times. I'm sure that you understand that, Mr. Lancer, being a father as you are. When you want the very best

for a child, and they repay you by nothing short of ungratefulness, well, it's distressing."

Wondering if his father would be drawn into feeling sympathy for Katherine, Scott felt a prickling of unease, and protectiveness for

Charlie.

"Well, we find Charlie a delightful little girl," Murdoch said, side-stepping Katherine's accusations about Charlie. "We

enjoy having her here. She shows promise of becoming a fine young lady."

"Yes. Well, not without great effort on my part, I can say that," Katherine said, changing tactics so as to continue touting her own

abilities.

Without an abruptness that caused both Katherine and Murdoch to look at him in surprise, Scott stood up.

"I'll go see about Charlie," he said. "Excuse me."

Just out the front door, Scott met up with Johnny, who held out both hands in a gesture of questioning. "Don't know where she's

gotten to. Jelly hasn't seen her. Cip, either."

The two brothers stood there, each in thought.

"Hmm," Scott said. "She's not in the house. Murdoch would know if she was. Where's Teresa?"

"Went off to visit a friend in town. She'll be back by suppertime," Johnny said.

"So, not with Teresa either, then," Scott surmised.

"Nope."

A sudden thought occurred to Scott then. "I wonder if she is in the house," he said.

"When she could be outside?" Johnny said. "You know the kid hates bein' cooped up indoors."

"Yeah, I know, but-" Scott began, and then hesitated, looking up towards the window that was Charlie's bedroom. It struck him then that

the window looked directly out on the yard, where its occupant could quite plainly see the comings and goings of family and guests.

"I reckon you should have told her that you expected her to be around about now," Johnny said, sounding amused. "Looks as though

the kid's taken off for greener pastures."

"I think I know where she is," Scott said, still looking upwards at the window.

Johnny followed his brother's line of sight. "You think?" he asked.

"Maybe," Scott said.

When he'd reached the top of the stairs, and was at the door of Charlie's bedroom, he gave the barest of knocks, and then opened the

door without waiting for a response.

Charlie was curled up on the window seat, her bare feet tucked under her, and she sat up straight as Scott came in. He didn't

miss the way she'd shoved something behind her, just as he came in.

He paused at the door. "We were wondering where you were," he said lightly.

Charlie was quiet, looking as though she was trying to think of something to answer.

Scott came on into the room, leaving the door open. and crossing over to the window seat.

"Your aunt is here," he said, knowing full well that Charlie knew that already.

When Charlie only looked at him, he added, "But you saw us, when we got here, didn't you?" It wasn't so much a question

as it was a statement of fact.

"I saw," she said.

Scott put his hands in the pockets of his pants. "The polite thing to do would have been to come down and say hello," he said, but he

said it gently.

"I guess I don't feel much like being polite," Charlie said.

Scott regarded her intently for a long moment. "Sometimes we have to do something, even though it's not comfortable, or fun. Even though

it might be-" he hesitated, trying to think of an appropriate word.

"Unpleasant," Charlie supplied.

Instead of feeling amused by Charlie's bluntness, Scott felt instead, bad for the little girl.

"Yes. Unpleasant," he allowed.

"Unbearable," Charlie went on. "Undesirable."

"Charlie," Scott said firmly. "Enough."

Charlie subsided at his firm tone.

"Have you been up here all afternoon?" he asked her then.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I was working on my lines," she said.

Scott wrinkled his forehead at her. "Those are finished by now, surely?" he asked.

"Not all the way finished. I need to rewrite some of them. They're messy looking."

Scott reached down and picked up one of the pieces of paper, looking it over. It held, front and back, numbers one to forty-five. And they looked

to be in tidy enough penmanship to him. "They look fine," he pointed out.

"I'm still working on the last ones," Charlie said.

"These should have done before the end of the morning today," he said. "Taking longer than you need so as to avoid having to come

downstairs isn't the right thing to do."

Charlie looked guiltily at him, and he knew that he'd gotten it correct.

Giving her a once-over, Scott reached behind her and pulled out the copy of 'Alice in Wonderland'. The book that he knew he'd left on

Murdoch's desk the night before. The book that Charlie had, at some point, gone downstairs to retrieve.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and said, in a stern tone, "And going downstairs to get a book to read, before you have the lines finished,

isn't right, either. Understood?"

Charlie nodded, looking at him tremulously.

Scott sighed, and gave her tucked-up legs a soft push, so that he could sit beside her on the window seat.

"Hiding up here isn't going to make any difference. It's still something that needs to be faced up to," he said quietly.

"I know. But-" she hesitated.

"What?" he asked, leaning in a bit to better see her down-turned face.

In answer, Charlie raised her face, which was now tanned from being out in the sun, and looked at him, her eyes full of emotions.

She gave a sigh, similar to his of earlier, and then lifted her shoulders in a light shrug.

Scott laid a hand on one of her knees, and gave it a pat. "It will be alright, Charlie," he said, speaking in as confident and reassuring

tone as he could muster up.

Charlie looked up more, studying his eyes.

Scott leaned in a bit more, so as to bump her arm with his shoulder. "Unpleasant, maybe, but alright," he added lightly.

Charlie gave another sigh, and then nodded. "Okay."

Scott took out his pocket watch and handed it to Charlie. "Ten minutes," he said. "See? Ten minutes and I want you to have

those last five lines written, and be downstairs to say hello to your aunt. Deal?"

"Yes, Scott," she agreed.

Scott was halfway down the stairs when he realized he possibly should have added to his talk with the little girl, an admonition to

behave at the supper table.

L

Scott went back to the library, and sat down again, relaying that Charlie would be downstairs in just a few minutes.

It was pressing right at the allotted ten-minute mark, when Charlie appeared.

"Come in, sweetheart," Murdoch encouraged, holding out an arm.

Charlie came in, slowly, but went to stand beside Murdoch's chair, turning to look at her aunt.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello, Charlotte," Katherine answered. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm really good," Charlie said.

"Well, that's good to hear," Katherine said. She regarded Charlie with a long look, and Scott knew she was inwardly judging

the child's attire, consisting of denim pants and a serviceable shirt.

Charlie sat down, next to Murdoch in the big chair, and Scott saw his father put an encouraging arm around her shoulders.

"Everyone's been asking about you, back at home," Katherine said to Charlie.

Charlie gave her aunt a questioning look. "Who?" she asked, in a direct way.

"Well, Mr. Beets, and some of the other board members. And Cook. She asked about you."

"That was nice," Charlie said.

A small silence ensued. An awkward one.

"Would you like to take that tour of the house now?" Murdoch asked.

"Yes. Certainly," Katherine said, standing up.

Charlie hung back a bit, as Murdoch ushered Katherine out of the library.

"Do I have to follow them?" she asked Scott.

"No. You don't have to."

"Okay." She looked relieved. "Can I go outside for awhile? I haven't seen Gurth all day."

"Now isn't the time to go riding," Scott cautioned.

"Alright. But can I go and see him for a few minutes at least?" she asked.

"For a few minutes," he said.

When Charlie had gone, running thru the house and out the front door, Scott sighed, and went to find his father, and their

guest.

L

It was later, near to supper being served, when Johnny came inside the house, approaching the trio who had completed the

tour of the house.

"Good afternoon," Johnny said, addressing himself to Katherine.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lancer," she said.

"How was your trip?" Johnny asked then, and Scott had to give his brother credit. He sounded as though he was genuinely

interested.

"It was long," Katherine said, and then managed a laugh. "Or it seemed so, to me at any rate. I must confess, I'm not accustomed to

such a mode of travel."

Maria appeared at the door of the library. "La cena esta lista."

Murdoch stood up, as did both brothers.

"Supper is ready," Murdoch said, in explanation to Katherine.

"I see," Katherine said, and stood up, smoothing her dress. "Has she been a servant of yours for some time, Mr. Lancer?" she asked, looking

to Murdoch.

"Maria? For many years. And we feel as though she's family," Murdoch said.

"Is Teresa home?" Murdoch was inquiring, looking at Johnny.

"She got here a bit ago. She went up to change her dress," Johnny said.

Murdoch nodded, and Scott gave a quick glance around the dining room, and then stepped to the kitchen, passing

by Maria, whose hands were full of a serving tray.

"The nina?" he asked her.

"Outdoors," Maria said, in English.

"Excuse me," Scott said, looking to Katherine. "I'll go get Charlie."

He went outside, as the rest of the group began to take their seats around the table, with Murdoch pulling out a chair to seat

Katherine.

Scott went outside, closing the front door behind him. He gave the yard a quick glance, and then the corral. No sign of Charlie.

He crossed the yard, to look inside the barn. Thinking she might have gone up to the barn loft to play with the cats, he called up, "Charlie?"

No answer.

He went to the door of the barn, looking around. "Charlie!" he called.

When his call only brought Jelly around the side of the barn, but no Charlie, he asked the older man, "Have you seen

Charlie, Jelly?"

"Earlier. She was messin' with her horse."

"Where?"

"Over yonder. In the pasture, there."

Scott went to the fence, and instead of taking the time to unhook the gate, he climbed over and dropped to the other side.

He looked across the pasture, seeing Johnny's horse, and his own, along with some of the cattle, but no Charlie. And no Gurth.

He called again. And again. He felt his temper begin to rise. She knew better than to disappear like this. Right before the evening meal. And

with her aunt here. Hadn't he expressly told her, 'only a few minutes'?

He stopped, thinking. He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of one eye, and caught sight then of Charlie, sitting atop Gurth, bareback,

down the hill near to the creek.

He put his pinky fingers in his mouth, and gave a shrill, sharp whistle. She'd heard, he could see, because she raised her head

to look his way.

Scott put his hands on his hips, and waited. He saw Charlie slide off the horse's back, and take the bridle from around his neck.

Giving the horse a pat, she began to walk his way. Scott stood still, letting her come to him. When she got closer, he saw her

steps beginning to lag even more.

He stood, quiet, keeping his hands on his hips, and letting his stance speak for itself.

Charlie was upon him now, and he saw the way that she was working at her lip, as she did when she was worried.

"Hi, Scott," she said tentatively.

"Charlotte," he said, in a stern tone, and waited.

Charlie's eyes widened, and then she said, looking upset, "Why are you calling me that?"

"It seems fitting, right about now," he said, and he could tell that she didn't really understand what he was getting at.

"I told you 'a few minutes'," he reminded her. "And it's been near to an hour, and I had to come hunting you up. I also said no horseback

riding right now."

"I wasn't, Scott!" Charlie protested, looking up at him earnestly. "I was just sitting on him for a little bit!"

Scott leaned down so that he was nearly face-to-face with her. "You know exactly what I meant. And twisting things to suit yourself?

All you're accomplishing right now is to make me angry."

Charlie swallowed, looking dismayed.

Still leaning on her level, Scott went on, "You know very well what I'm talking about. And this nonsense? Doing what you

want so as to not be in the house? That's disobeying me."

"Scott-" she began.

"Hush," he said, so sternly that she looked at him wide-eyed, and was quiet.

"I don't want any more of this sort of thing," he said. "Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Charlie said, her lip quivering.

Sir? Scott let it pass. He turned and began walking back towards the house, Charlie following him.

L


	34. Surprise request

They went in the door nearest to the kitchen, and Scott waited while Charlie washed her hands. Maria said something

disapproving, in Spanish, about how their supper was getting cold. Before they reached the dining room, Scott said, "You

can apologize. For being late to the table."

Charlie looked at him, surprised, and then appeared resigned. She nodded in acknowledgement.

When they entered the dining room, Scott ushered Charlie in ahead of him.

Charlie slid into her seat, and Scott took his, across the table from her. When he caught her eye, he gave her a brief nod.

"Sorry for being late to supper," the little girl said obediently.

Katherine looked surprised, and Murdoch said mildly, "Well, we've left plenty for you and Scott both."

"Thank you," Charlie said politely.

The roast beef was tender, and juicy, and seasoned with Maria's own special seasonings. The potatoes were tender, and

the gravy was creamy. Fruit salad and carrot coins completed the meal, along with rolls. Charlie was quiet, answering when

spoken to, though she ate well.

Katherine seemed content to address herself to the other members of the family. Teresa in particular, though Johnny was questioned

as well. When the meal was finished, the family again went to sit in the library.

Apparently of the opinion that enough information hadn't been gleaned as of yet, Johnny asked, though politely enough, "What are

your plans, Katherine? I'll be glad to show you around the ranch tomorrow."

"Katherine doesn't ride," Murdoch supplied.

"Oh." Johnny said, and then after a moment, added, "Well, that's no problem. We can drive the wagon, and show you the

high points, anyway."

Earlier, she'd refused that offer, so Scott expected her to do the same now.

"That would be very nice," Katherine said. "If someone could come in the morning to collect me?"

"Certainly," Murdoch said.

There seemed to be no way to ask, at least without being immensely impolite, about how long Katherine intended

to visit in their vicinity.

"What else would you enjoy doing while you're here?" Murdoch asked.

"Oh, my, I don't have any preferences," Katherine said.

And then, the information came.

"I'm only going to be able to stay past tomorrow, I'm afraid," Katherine said, managing to sound regretful. "I have

commitments which I simply cannot undue." She smiled at Murdoch. "You understand."

"Of course," Murdoch said.

Charlie looked pale and worried, a fact which did not go unnoticed by any of the adults in the room, beside, of course,

Katherine, who talked on.

"It's an annual event," she was saying, and each of the three men realized that they'd missed the gist of the topic.

Knowing full well that Mr. Beets would not have any objection at all, Scott phrased his statement with some

confidence. "We'd like it if Charlie stayed here the rest of the summer."

Katherine's icy grey eyes met Scott's, and for a moment she seemed to be sizing him up. He knew that she knew, that he knew

that Mr. Beets would be totally approving of the suggestion. Perhaps, though being discreet, Mr. Beets had relayed the information

to Katherine that Scott had come to visit him.

"I think a bit longer would be perfectly acceptable," Katherine said, her eyes still on Scott.

And though, 'a bit longer', was not the remainder of the summer in words, Scott nodded. "Fine."

Instantly, Charlie's demeanor brightened. She leaned against Murdoch's side in the large chair, and put her hand into

his large one.

"And in return," Katherine added, "I think it would benefit Charlotte and I, if we were to have some time to ourselves

this evening."

"Of course," Murdoch said, misunderstanding. "You're free to use the library-"

"I meant," Katherine said, speaking over him, "That I think Charlotte should accompany me to the hotel this evening,

and stay overnight."

Charlie's shoulders sagged and her smile faded, just as quickly as it had arrived.

Before any of the Lancers could collect their wits, enough to reply, Katherine had turned to Charlie herself.

"You'll do that, won't you, Charlotte?" she asked.

Charlie hesitated, and then looked to her right to Murdoch, and then to Scott. "I-" she began, and then stopped.

Katherine's smile seemed genuine, as she looked at her niece. "We could talk, and have some dessert, at the hotel," she

said, sounding kind.

"Alright," Charlie said, and Scott wondered if he was the only one in the room that heard the catch in her voice.

"That's fine, then," Katherine said, fairly beaming in triumph. "And, speaking of that, we should be going soon. So that we are

able to have some time."

Teresa stood up, and held out a hand to Charlie. "Let's go get your nightgown and hairbrush and other things in a bag."

Charlie took the offered hand, and went with Teresa.

Scott could see their departure from the room well enough to see that Teresa, on their way out, put an arm

around Charlie's shoulders, hugging her.

"Excuse me," Johnny said, and left the room.

It didn't take a Pinkerton detective to know just where his brother was going, as well, Scott thought.

Scott made his own trip up to Charlie's room within the next fifteen minutes or so. He didn't want Charlie to think he

was being blasé about her going with Katherine, even for one night.

The door to the bedroom was ajar, and Johnny, seated on the bed, looked up. "Here's Scott," he said, in a falsely cheerful

tone. "I'll go down and help keep Katherine entertained." He ran a hand over Charlie's head, and then gave Scott a slap

on the shoulder as he passed him. Teresa, meanwhile, was busy tucking things into a small brown bag. One of Teresa's own bags, Scott

observed.

"And you can wear my best hair clip," Teresa was saying, as she held it up. "Come over here and I'll brush your hair, and

then put it in."

Charlie obligingly backed up, as Teresa began loosening the braid, and brushing out her hair.

Scott sat down in the spot on the bed that Johnny had only just vacated.

"It seems as though your aunt is looking forward to tonight," Scott said.

Charlie nodded in answer.

When Teresa was thru brushing and putting the clip in Charlie's hair, she gave the little girl a swift hug.

"I'll see you downstairs," she said, and gave Scott a disapproving sisterly glance.

Charlie went over to fasten the bag, after putting her hairbrush inside.

"I'm glad I get to stay here for the summer," Charlie said.

"I'm glad, too," Scott said.

He thought for a moment, and then said, "Come here a minute."

Charlie looked at him, and then came over to him.

"I'm proud of the way that you answered your aunt," he told her. "When she asked you about coming to stay the night

in town. You were polite about it, and I know she appreciated that."

Charlie met his eye, but only nodded, looking sad.

"It's one night," Scott said. "It might be nice, you and Katherine getting a chance to really talk."

In response, Charlie climbed silently on his lap, leaning her head against his chest.

Scott held her, and they were both silent, until Teresa reappeared at the open door.

"She says she's ready to go," Teresa said.

"Alright," Scott said, and when Charlie slid off his knee, they stood up. When they walked down the stairs,

Johnny had already stowed the bags in the back of the buggy, and he took Charlie's bag from her, tucking it in

with the others.

"See ya in the mornin', pequeno," he told Charlie.

"Okay."

Charlie looked at Murdoch then, and gave him a brief hug. She did the same to Teresa, and Katherine

said lightly, "My goodness, it's only one night. Not a month."

During the drive to town, Charlie was mostly quiet, and Scott was, as well, only answering Katherine when she

addressed him in her endless chatter.

At the hotel, Scott pulled the buggy up, and got out, waving a hand in greeting to a neighboring rancher. He lifted

Charlie down, and then held out a hand to Katherine. He reached into the back for the bags, managing by having one under

each arm, and one in each hand.

Charlie leaned up and took the fifth one of Katherine's and her own small one. "I'll carry it," she said.

Scott smiled at her, and they both followed Katherine into the hotel, where there were several men in the lobby reading newspapers,

and the smell of cigar smoke hung over the air.

"I'd like a room, for the night," Katherine told the clerk behind the counter.

"Of course," the clerk said, and turned the register so that Katherine could sign her name. "Room 3. At the top, and to the right."

"May I have my key?" she asked, and when it had been handed to her, she turned to face Scott.

"Will you carry those up?" she asked him.

"Of course."

So on up the stairs they went, Katherine first, then Charlie, and Scott bringing up the tail end of the trio.

Katherine unlocked the hotel room, and stepped inside, immediately laying her purse on a bed, and beginning to take the

pins from her hat, as Scott set the bags down.

"Well," she said, turning to look at Scott and at Charlie. "Thank you for the ride into town," she said to Scott, plainly in a dismissal.

Scott nodded. "You're welcome."

Charlie was standing there, still and quiet, looking at him, and Scott said, "Is eight in the morning alright for me to pick

you up to go back out to the ranch?"

"Eight?" Katherine crinkled her forehead at him. "I think that's a bit early. Let's say nine, or even ten?"

Scott kept his thoughts on that to himself, and merely nodded. "Nine," he acknowledged.

"Fine."

Scott went to the door, which was still ajar, and said, "Come with me a minute, Charlie."

Charlie set her bag down, and immediately came over, following Scott into the hallway. Scott pulled the door closed

behind her, and looked down at the little girl.

"Try to find some good points to the evening," he said. "Alright?"

"I'll try."

Scott nodded. "Okay." He reached out and pulled Charlie to him, hugging her. "See you in the morning then."

Now Charlie nodded. "Okay," she said, in a small voice.

Scott leaned down to face level with her. "I'm proud of you," he said.

Charlie brightened a little. "I want you to be proud of me."

"Well, you're getting it done. Keep it up, alright?"

"Yes, Scott."

He nodded and opened the door to the room, ushering Charlie back inside. "I'll be back in the morning," he told Katherine, and at

her nod, he went down the stairs, and out to the waiting buggy.

L

Scott was just coming down the stairs, the next morning, still buttoning his shirt as he walked, when he heard his father

at the front door, talking to someone.

Murdoch was closing the front door, as Scott came near.

"Early for company," Scott commented. The sun was hardly above the horizon.

"Boy from town," Murdoch said, and Scott lifted a curtain to look out at the youth who was climbing on his

horse, preparing to ride away.

"Looks like Tim Guenther," Scott said.

"He had a message, from Val," Murdoch said.

"For me?"

"Yeah." Murdoch paused, looking at Scott in concern. "Said he needed you to come on into town when you were able."

"What for?"

"He didn't say."

"Now, though? Or is later alright?" Scott asked.

"Didn't say that, either. Only that you needed to come when you could."

"Hmm," Scott said.

Johnny had come up onto the conversation, enough to get the facts of it.

"What do ya think it is?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Scott said. He looked at his father, and his brother and said, "Maybe I better head on in, huh?"

"Maybe so," Murdoch said. "Have your breakfast first. He didn't say it was an emergency."

Scott ate a quick breakfast, and went to saddle his horse. He wasn't surprised, in the least, when Johnny came around

the corner of the barn, leading a saddled horse.

"Thought I'd ride along," he said, in explanation. "Just in case there's some trouble over somethin'."

Scott finished cinching the saddle, and lowered the stirrup, looking across the saddle at his brother.

"I don't know whether to thank you, or be insulted," he said.

"How so?" Johnny asked.

"The suggestion that I couldn't handle trouble is underlying in your tone," Scott said, and then gave Johnny a half-grin.

"The thought that you couldn't never crossed my mind," Johnny said.

L


	35. Big request from a little girl

Earlier that morning, very, very early, Val was getting ready to start his pot of coffee, setting it on the old stove in his office.

He heard the sound of running feet, and turned, but before he could go look out at the cause of it, the door opened, and Charlie

stood there, trying to catch her breath.

Val paused, the coffee pot still in his hand.

"Well," he said, surprised by her stormy entry. "Good early morning there, 'Just Charlotte'."

Charlie stood, taking deep breaths to recover from her running.

"You in town with Scott?" Val asked, going to the open door to look out. "Where'd you leave that rascal at?"

"I'm not-with Scott," Charlie managed, her breath coming easier.

"Johnny, then? Or Murdoch?" Val asked, looking down at her.

Charlie shook her head. "I'm by myself."

"I see," Val said, eyeing her. "Well, why are you running here, like the Hounds of Hell are behind you?"

"I need to talk to you."

Val studied her for a moment longer, and then nodded. "Well, alright," he said, closing the door, and going back over to the stove still carrying

the pot. "Let me get my coffee going here, and then we'll have us a talk," he said. While he finished his chore, he kept a look on

the child, out of the corner of his eye. She was obviously edgy, frightened appearing, even.

He gestured to a chair, "Sit down there, little lady."

Charlie sat down, working her hands together nervously.

Val pulled another chair out, and over closer, sitting down facing her. "What can I help you with?"

"Can you give me human sanctuary?" the little girl asked him.

Val blinked in surprise. "Come again?" he asked.

"Can I have sanctuary here, in the jail?" she asked, earnestly.

"I'm not sure I understand-" Val began.

"It means can I stay here, and be safe," Charlie began to explain.

"Darlin', I know what sanctuary is. What I don't understand is why you'd need it."

Charlie regarded him seriously for a long moment. "It's your job to help people, right?"

"It is," he agreed.

"So, if somebody needs to be kept safe, then you have to do it, right?"

"What danger is it that you're in, exactly?" Val asked, and Charlie caught the glimpse of amusement in

his eyes.

She stood up, her eyes flashing. "Never mind," she said. "I'll figure it out for myself!"

She moved to walk past Val, in his chair, but was halted by the quick grab he made, thru the straps of her overalls.

"Let's just hold up there a minute," he told her.

Charlie struggled for a moment against his hold.

"Simmer down," Val cautioned.

"If you won't give it to me, then I have to go!" Charlie said insistently. "You think it's just a big joke! You're laughing at

me!"

"Now, I'm not laughing," Val denied. "I might have been smiling, just a little, but I won't anymore, alright?"

Charlie considered him again. "Then you'll give me sanctuary?" she insisted.

"Well, we'll see," he said. "Before we get to all of that, I need to know a little more about the situation. Agreed?"

"Okay," she said.

"Sit back down here, now," he said, and Charlie retook her seat in the chair opposite him.

"First of all," Val began, "How is it that you're in town this early on, all by yourself? Where's Scott?"

"He's at home. I spent the night at the hotel. With Katherine."

"Katherine. That's your aunt, right?"

At Charlie's nod, Val said, "Alright. So what happened at the hotel to cause all this workup?"

And at that, the words began tumbling out of Charlie. How her aunt had been talking to a man in the hotel lobby, and

been acting all mysterious, as if they didn't want anyone to overhear their conversation. And then later, when Charlie had been

sleeping, she'd heard her aunt talking again to someone, this time in the hallway.

And how the voice of the man in the hallway had been one she'd heard before. In Stockton, in the hallway of the hotel there,

when she'd stayed the night with Scott and Johnny.

The words kept coming, until Val could hardly make sense of them at all.

"Just a minute now," he said again, when Charlie began describing plots of kidnapping, and such.

"Who is it that's going to be kidnapped?" he asked.

"Me!" she said, "At least I think maybe so."

Val leaned back a little in the chair, studying the little girl.

"Why would your aunt be talking to someone who wanted to kidnap you?" Val pointed out.

"I think she wants it to look like I was kidnapped, or something!"

It was obvious that the child was really, genuinely believing what she was telling him. That she believed she was in some sort

of danger.

"Are you going back to Lancer?" he asked her then.

"Yes. This morning."

"Well, then," he said, calmly, "There you go. You'll be perfectly safe with Scott-"

"No, I don't think so," the child insisted. "Katherine's coming too, back to the ranch this morning!"

"I'm not understanding you, darlin'," he said.

"The man, he might follow us as we're leaving town, or something! And he might shoot Scott! And then he would kidnap me,

or make it look like kidnapping-and then Katherine would-"

"Here, now," Val said, leaning forward to capture Charlie's waving hands in his own. "Try to settle down a little bit. I guarantee you that

anybody at Lancer can protect you fine. There's no better with a gun than Johnny, and Scott's not bad, himself."

"I can't take that chance!" Charlie insisted. "That man might make a sneak attack, or something! I don't want anything to happen

to them!"

Val was silent, looking at her.

Charlie's big eyes looked even larger in her face now. "Please, Mr. Val," she said, "I know that I wasn't very nice to you when

I first met you, and even after that, and I know you don't really like me much-but please, let me have sanctuary here until

that man leaves!"

"First of all, you're wrong about my not liking you. Dead wrong. I like you fine," Val said.

"You do?" Charlie asked, sounding hopeful. "For true?"

"For true," Val said, with certainty.

"Even though I was an awful brat to you?" she asked then.

"Ah, I've forgotten all about that," Val said, with a wave of his hand.

Charlie gave him an almost-smile. "You really are nice."

"Don't let word get out about that, alright?" Val said, and winked at her.

After a couple of long moments, Val said, "Where is your aunt now? At the hotel?"

"Yes. I guess. I waited until I was sure she was asleep before I left. And I ran really fast, in case that man was watching."

"Alright. Well, let's go and have some breakfast-"

"Please, can't I stay here?" Charlie asked. "You can lock me in the cell while you go eat breakfast."

"I'm not going to lock you in a cell, Charlie," he said.

When she regarded him with those big eyes again, Val sighed. "I'll have Tom go and get us some breakfast at the

restaurant and bring it back over. How's that?"

Charlie nodded, looking relieved.

"And then what?" she asked.

"Then, we'll wait for Scott to come, and we'll go and talk to your aunt."

"She'll say she doesn't know anything about it! She'll say-"

"I'm a pretty old guy," Val said. "I can't be fooled all that easily."

Charlie gave him a long once-over, and then nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

Val thought how the little girl had changed, since the first few times he'd been in her company. She was still lively, and

stubborn in ways, but gone was the tough veneer that she had projected at the beginning. She was respectful, and much more compliant.

Val worked on tidying up the office, until the deputy brought over two covered trays from the Longhorn.

He installed Charlie at his desk to eat, while he sat opposite her, and tried to steer her to other topics of conversation, rather

than what had brought her to his office to begin with. When they were finished eating, he stacked the trays, and began sifting thru

his paperwork.

"I can sweep up for you, if you want me to," Charlie offered.

Val nodded, and gave her a smile. "Go ahead on. I can't recall the last time it was swept up in here."

He observed the little girl off and on without being noticeable.

"Your aunt will be worried about you, I reckon," he said, casually. "If she sees that you're gone from the room."

"No. She won't be. She won't be up for another hour or more," Charlie said. "And even when she's up, she won't be worried.

She doesn't worry about me. She'll just think I'm out walking around. She won't know that I know about the man."

"Hmm," Val said, and left the subject alone.

He was refilling his coffee cup at the stove, when he saw a flash of movement out front of the sheriff's office.

He set the coffee pot back on the stove, and put his cup aside.

"I'll be right back," he told Charlie.

"Are you leaving?" Charlie asked, looking slightly alarmed.

"I'll be just outside," he reassured her.

"Do you want me to sweep in the cells, too?" she asked Val.

"Sure. If you feel the inclination," he said, and smiled at her.

"It's a mess around here," Charlie told him, and went on towards the back where the cells were, carrying the broom.

Val stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Morning, boys," he said, as Scott and Johnny were finishing tying the reins to the hitching post.

"Morning," Scott said, and gave Val a closer look. "Something wrong?"

"Must be if you send a kid out to the ranch before it's barely daybreak," Johnny added.

"I'm not sure, if there's something wrong or not," Val admitted.

When both brothers gave him a questioning look, Val gave a nod towards the inside of the office.

"Got a little girl inside," he said. "Came before the sun was up, asking me for human sanctuary."

"For what?" Johnny asked.

"Sanctuary. Protection," Val said.

Scott frowned a little, still not clear on what was going on.

"It's Charlie," Val supplied.

"Charlie," Scott repeated, in surprise.

At Val's nod, Scott and Johnny exchanged a look.

"What the hell," Johnny said.

"Says her aunt's acting mysterious, talking to men in the hallways in the night. Men's voices that she recognizes. Thinks

she's going to be kidnapped, or some such," Val explained.

"What?" Johnny said. "That again?"

"She was real stirred up when she got here. She's had some breakfast and settled down some," Val said. "I tried telling her

that she'd be fine goin' on home with you all, but she says she can't risk it. That you'd likely be shot up, by this mysterious fella."

"I don't know where she gets this," Scott said.

"She sure seems to believe it to be true, though," Val said.

"I know," Scott said, with a sigh.

"I told her you and I would go and talk to her aunt," Val said.

Scott nodded.

"I could go and poke around town. See if any strangers are around," Johnny said. "Just to be sure."

Val nodded. "Poke around, but that's all, alright?" he cautioned.

"That's all," Johnny promised.

When he'd gone, Scott and Val exchanged a look.

"Well," Scott said. He opened the door, Val behind him.

"She's back there, sweeping up," Val told him, with a nod towards the back.

Scott went thru the main part of the office, and into the part of the jail where the cells were located. Charlie was standing on

a cot in one of the cells, raising the broom toward a corner above the cot, trying to displace a cobweb.

She saw Scott, and lowered the broom, still standing on the cot.

"Hi, Scott," she said, looking uncertain.

"Good morning," he said, dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"You're in town early," she said then.

"Val sent a message out. He thought I ought to come in."

"Oh," Charlie said, still sounding uncertain.

Scott took a few steps closer, coming into the cell as well. "Helping with the cleaning, huh?" he asked.

"Yes." Charlie studied him. "Scott, I know it was the same man!"

Scott reached out to take the broom from her hand, and set it in a corner. "Let's talk about it," he said, calmly, and

held a hand out to help her step down from the cot.

Charlie took his hand, and jumped the short distance down.

"I know there's something going on!" she went on.

Scott sat down on the end of the cot. "Sit down here a minute," he told her.

"I'm not imagining things!" Charlie insisted, still standing.

"Sit down," Scott said, again, patting the spot beside him.

Charlie obeyed, sitting beside him, and looking up at him with an earnest expression.

"Tell me what happened," Scott said.

So Charlie sped into her story, of how, in the hotel lobby, the evening before, Katherine had gone down to

buy a newspaper, and had been gone a long period of time.

"It was boring up in the room, so I went downstairs," Charlie said. "And she was sitting and talking to this man, and

they were sitting real close together, and when she saw me she got up. When I asked who he was, she told me that it was

none of my business, and that my manners had gotten even worse since I've been staying with you." She gathered her breath, and

launched into talking again. "And when we went back up to the room, she acted all strange, and nervous. She hardly talked to

me at all. She just wanted me to go to sleep. And then it was really late, and I think I was asleep, and I heard her talking to

someone in the hall! And I couldn't hear everything, but I know it was the same man's voice that I heard at the hotel in

Stockton!"

"There's no law against Katherine having a conversation with somebody," Scott said.

"But, Scott-" she began to protest.

"There could be any number of explanations for it all," Scott went on.

"You don't believe me?" Charlie asked, looking aghast.

"I'm not saying that I don't believe that you were frightened," Scott allowed. "I do. I just think there might be

reasonable explanation."

That Charlie was disappointed in his response was obvious. Her big eyes shamed him.

"We'll go talk to her," Scott went on.

Charlie stood up with a suddenness that surprised him. She went to sit on the cot opposite of that one, scooting herself

up against the wall, and pulling her knees up against her chest.

"I want to wait here," she said, and then added, belatedly, "Please."

"Alright," Scott said. He stood up, and went out to the office.

Val accompanied Scott, as they went over to the hotel, after he'd asked Tom to sit at the jail.

It took several knocks on the hotel room door, until Katherine's voice responded.

"Who's there?"

"It's Scott Lancer," Scott said, thru the door. "And the sheriff."

There was some noises from inside the room, and then the door opened just barely.

"It's much earlier than we agreed upon, isn't it?" she said, addressing herself to Scott.

"Yes, it is. We wanted to talk to you."

"What's it about?" Katherine asked, and looked to Val. "And for the sheriff to accompany you?"

"We'd just like to talk with you," Val intervened. "It's about Charlotte."

"Charlotte? She's sleeping," Katherine said.

"No, ma'm, she's not," Val denied, and Katherine stepped back a bit, as if to look towards a bed, now vacant.

"Where is she?" she asked, opening the door a good deal further.

"She's over at my office," Val said.

"Whatever for?"

"May we come in, and talk to you?" Val asked.

"I'll get dressed and come down to your office," Katherine said, in a firm tone.

Scott exchanged a look with Val.

"I assume that will be acceptable?" Katherine asked, sarcasm evident in her voice. "We can discuss whatever it is that

Charlotte has done when I arrive."

"Charlie hasn't done anything," Scott defended.

Val laid a light hand on Scott's shoulder. "We'll wait downstairs in the hotel lobby for you. If you could join us in a few minutes?" he told Katherine,

and after a nod of agreement, Katherine closed the door.

L


	36. Battle line drawn

Katherine kept them waiting, for longer than the agreed upon few minutes. Val sat in a chair in the lobby, picking up a newspaper

and flipping thru it. Scott stood at the window, holding the curtain aside, watching the activity on the street.

"You know what I think?" Scott said.

"What do you think?" Val asked, not looking up from his newspaper.

"I think that Katherine has a reason for showing up here for a so-called two day visit. That's what I think."

Val lowered his newspaper.

"I also think that she knows more than she's letting on. Maybe the banker Beets told her that I came to see him," Scott went on.

"Well, where do you think Charlie gets this kidnapping idea from?" Val asked.

"I don't know," Scott said, with a sigh.

"I'd say that she's doin' it for attention, or to get out of going anywhere with her aunt, but she was scared. There was no

pretending to it," Val said.

"No. She really believes it," Scott agreed.

Val refolded the newspaper and laid it on the table beside his chair. "There's a noticeable change in that little girl," he said.

Scott turned to look at Val, wondering what his friend meant.

"She's still a spunky little thing," Val went on. "But, she's-well, she's more settled, I guess is the word. Compliant. Respectful."

Scott nodded in response and Val added, "You've done a good job with her, Scott. She thinks you hung the moon."

"I don't know about that," Scott said.

"Well, I do," Val asserted.

Scott met his gaze and nodded in acceptance. "Well, I think she's real special, too."

"So, what's the problem?" Val asked. "You love her. She loves you. The aunt's not a proper caretaker. What's stopping

you?"

"The money," Scott said.

Val wrinkled his forehead in puzzlement. "How so?"

"I'd sign away any connection to it, but I don't think Katherine will be so willing to let it go."

"How much money are we talking about here?" Val asked.

When Scott told him the sum of the inheritance, Val's eyebrows rose.

"Good Lord," he said. "I had no idea it was that much."

"Yeah."

Finally, when Katherine came down the stairs, she was dressed in a shiny blue satin dress, low in the neckline, with

lace around the wrists.

"Gentlemen," she said.

Val, who'd gotten to his feet as Katherine approached, said, "I've asked Ted if we can use the back room, in order to have

some privacy."

"The conversation requires privacy, does it?" she asked, lifting a well-plucked brow.

"I think it does," Val said easily.

Val led the way to the back room, Katherine following, and Scott at the end.

Once there, Val gestured to a chair. "Sit down if you like, Mrs. Burch."

Katherine nodded, and seated herself, smoothing her dress.

"What's this about?" she asked, sounding impatient.

Scott looked at Val, thinking he would let Val take the lead in the conversation.

"Charlotte came to my office early this morning," Val said. "She seems to feel that she's in some sort of danger."

"That's ridiculous. What sort of danger?" Katherine demanded.

"In danger of being kidnapped," Val said, and waited.

"Kidnapped?" Katherine repeated, looking properly shocked.

"Yes, ma'm."

"Well, my goodness, that's the most foolish thing I've ever heard. Charlotte is very well protected and supervised when she is with me-"

Katherine paused, and let her words sink in. "Or, since her worry has occurred here, it's someone from this area that she

fears?"

Well, she'd done that nice and neatly, Scott thought darkly. Managed to shift the blame onto his family. And Charlie, well-protected when

with her aunt? That was the most blatant falsehood he'd ever heard.

He would have spoken up, denying her last remarks, but Val said calmly, "Well, Mrs. Burch, when I first met Charlotte, she'd

been taken off a train, after having hopped it in Stockton and riding it here. So, I'm not so certain I'd agree with the

well-supervised part."

Val had well and truly made an enemy. Scott knew that from the way that Katherine's controlled façade faded, and her eyes

became icy. She quickly managed to remask her composure, but the iciness stayed in her eyes.

"All children go thru stages in their life, Sheriff," she said, managing to sound as though she was preaching. "Perhaps, like Scott here,

you don't yourself have any personal experience in raising children? Or do you? Have children, Sheriff?"

"No, ma'm, I do not. I do know the law, however, and it's never a good thing when a child can make it that far without being

detected, and reported missing," Val said.

Katherine's cheeks flamed in color. Anger, Scott knew, not embarrassment.

"Let's move on to this kidnapping nonsense," she said, in a clipped tone.

"Charlie says she heard a man's voice in the hotel hallway last night. She says she's heard it before. She seems-truly

frightened," Val said.

"I wouldn't know anything about a man's voice in the hallway," Katherine said, in irritation. "My goodness, there's any

number of hotel guests up and down the hallways at night, I expect."

"Yes, ma'm. With this particular voice, though, she says you were speaking with the gentleman in question."

"That's nonsense," Katherine waved a hand in dismissal. "Perhaps Charlotte was having a dream of some sort."

"She feels it's real," Scott said. He couldn't keep silent any longer.

Katherine turned her icy eyes onto Scott. "Goodness, Scott, haven't you learned yet, that a child can 'feel' things,

without them being true?"

Scott felt his anger grow so strong that he walked the few feet to the window, to give himself a few moments to

cool down.

"Not to mention the fact that Charlotte is-well," Katherine hesitated, as if reluctant to finish her sentence, "Well, she likes

to stretch the truth, for lack of a better way to say it."

Scott turned to face her, his own eyes cold. "Charlie wouldn't lie. Not about something important like this."

"Well, what exactly are you saying, gentlemen?" Katherine asked. "That there's a vile man, waiting to kidnap Charlotte? And

that I'm somehow negligent in my duties, that she feels that way?"

"We wanted to speak to you about it," Val said. "Let you know her concerns. And ours."

"Well, now you've done that," Katherine said, and stood, with all the bearing of a queen, dismissing her servants. Her eyes

focused on Scott. "I think, really, that it would be best if I didn't accompany you back out to the ranch, Scott. I'll await the stage

on its next return."

"Fine," Scott said.

"And, I also think, with this recent development, that Charlotte should return to Stockton with me."

Scott couldn't help the shocked look he sent her. "Today?" he asked.

"Yes. Today. If there's a stage leaving today."

"No," Scott heard himself saying in a flat, curt voice. "She's been promised that she could stay. So she'll stay."

Katherine and Scott faced off, so to speak, while Val stood quiet.

"You have no right," Katherine said.

There was no answer to that, so Scott made none. He just held her gaze with his own. Silent. Commanding.

Katherine turned to Val. "I am, as you are aware, Sheriff, the legal guardian of the child. I need no one's permission

to have her accompany me. I am the one who gives the permission."

"Ma'm," Val began.

"She's been promised," Scott maintained. "A promise should be kept."

"Well, I don't feel that this particular promise is one that should be kept," Katherine said.

"And I don't believe that your feelings are what's important right now," Scott said severely.

Katherine stood up, her back ramrod straight. "I will be at the hotel. When I find the time of departure of the

next stage today, I'll expect you to know it as well. And I'll expect Charlotte there, ready to travel with me.

And dressed appropriately. Like a young lady. Not some-derelict ranch hand."

And, with that, Katherine swept out of the room her skirts rustling, with only the sound that satin can make.

L


	37. Plan gone awry

As soon as Katherine had swept her way from the room, Scott wanted to call her back again. Or go after her. Angry with himself for

what he'd said to her.

He looked at Val. "Now I've done it," he said, blaming himself. "Shot off my mouth and got her dander up."

"I don't think it takes much to ruffle her feathers, Scott," Val said, trying to sound reassuring.

"That doesn't matter. I know what she's like, and I still lost my temper. I should have let you come over here alone to talk

to her."

"You're bein' awfully harsh with yourself," Val said, and gave Scott's shoulder a sympathetic slap.

"Can I keep Charlie here?" Scott asked, knowing the answer, but asking it anyway. "Against Katherine's say-so?"

Val gave Scott a long look, and said in obvious regret, "You know you can't, my friend."

"Well-" Scott hesitated, thinking. "I'm going to go try and talk to her again."

"I don't think that sounds like a very good idea," Val cautioned.

"I need to try," Scott said. "She might decide to withdraw all visitation from us with Charlie."

"What about the lawyer? Beets?" Val asked. "You said he thought the visits were good for Charlie. Maybe you can talk to

him, and he'll intervene."

"It's a good idea," Scott agreed. "But-" he hesitated.

"But what?"

"Even if he does intervene, it would be a few days at least. Maybe longer. What about today? I don't think I can walk over

there and tell Charlie she doesn't get to stay, as was agreed," Scott said.

Val looked serious, sympathetic.

"Isn't there something you can do?" Scott asked him.

"I wish there was, Scott." After a moment's hesitation, he said, "You go on and try talking to our Miss Katherine again. See if you

can reason with her." He smiled slightly. "Turn on the charm that had all the ladies in Boston fanning themselves. In the meantime, I'll

see what I can think up."

Scott nodded, and went out into the hotel lobby again. From behind him, Val's voice said, "Remember. Charm."

Scott walked with purpose up the stairs, to the hotel room that he'd brought Charlie to the evening before. And knocked.

"Who is it?" came Katherine's voice, sounding irritated.

"It's Scott."

The door was opened, and Katherine stood there.

"What is it, Scott?" she asked, curtly.

"I'd like to speak to you for a couple of minutes."

"I think we just did that," Katherine said, her eyes cold.

"I was hoping that we might try again," Scott said, and although he couldn't bring himself to smile at her, he did try to

inject some warmth into his voice.

"I don't see any point to that," Katherine said.

"I'd appreciate it, if you'd try," Scott said.

Katherine's eyes ran over him and she stepped aside, gesturing him into the room without a word.

Scott stepped into the room, and Katherine closed the door behind him. Then she waited, her hands folded, in obvious

impatience.

"If it sounded as though we were accusing you of something, that wasn't the intention," Scott said.

"What was your intention then, exactly?' Katherine demanded.

"To let you know Charlie's worries. Her fear. To see if you knew of any reason why she might be worrying about

this-"

"Worrying about being kidnapped, you mean?" Katherine asked.

Scott nodded.

"I told you and your friend, the sheriff, that Charlotte is prone to manufacture up stories to suit her

purpose, if she feels the need," Katherine said.

"I don't agree," Scott said, and as Katherine's color rose high in anger, Scott added, "I don't think she's lying about

believing it. Or about being frightened. That I believe."

"Well, then," Katherine said. "I believe we are at an impasse again."

"I said I think that she's truly believing it," Scott said. "I didn't say that I'm accusing you of having anything to do with it."

"Well, even so-" Katherine said, and let her voice trail off, looking at him.

"I'd like you to reconsider taking Charlie back with you on the next stage, and let her stay," Scott said.

Katherine studied Scott, and Scott knew she was trying to discern if he was willing to plead. To beg. And he was.

"I think that Charlotte has spent perhaps too much time with your family recently," Katherine said, and Scott felt

as though he'd been punched in the stomach. She was going to deny his request.

"It's been beneficial for her," Scott said. And, then, hating the smug expression on her face, he added, "I know that Banker

Beets feels the same."

"Ah, I wondered when you would bring up Mr. Beets," Katherine said. It was plain to Scott that Katherine took his last

statement as an open invitation for warfare.

"I know about your visit to see him," she went on, and Scott felt a sense of panic that she might indeed know about the

direction of his conversation with Mr. Beets.

So he waited, not wanting to give anything away concerning his wish for guardianship.

"You're an intelligent man, Scott," Katherine went on. "A misguided man, but still intelligent. You must know that I

didn't make a sudden visit here to this desolate place because I wanted to see your family's ranch?"

"I didn't think it was for that reason," Scott said, keeping his tone quiet. "I had hoped that it was because you wanted to see Charlie, however."

Katherine's face flushed in deep color.

"Of course I wanted to. Charlotte and I have a complicated relationship, but that does not alter the feelings that I hold for

her."

Rather than call Katherine out on her last statement, Scott pressed on. "Am I correct then, in assuming that Mr. Beets

suggested you come and visit here?"

"That would be correct. Congratulations, Scott."

"For what?"

"For causing me to become so flustered, as to reveal such a thing to you," she said. She went to a small table across the

room, and poured herself a small amount of brandy.

"Would you care for a drink?" she offered.

"No, ma'm. Thank you."

"Ma'm, again? I thought we'd gotten past that, Scott." And Katherine smiled at him, a full out smile that showed Scott how she

was able to persuade people to see her side of things.

Scott stood there, waiting as she drank her brandy.

"This has been quite a morning," she said then.

"Yes, it has."

"I should find out about the time of the next stage arrival," she went on.

"I can look into that for you."

"Thank you, Scott." She smiled at him again.

Still he was quiet, unable to bring himself to smile back. He was willing to talk, to reason, even to plead, and if necessary, humble

himself to the woman standing in front of him. But to smile at her? He couldn't do that.

"I'd consider it a personal favor, if you'd let Charlie stay, as we agreed earlier."

"A personal favor?" Katherine asked, seizing on the words immediately. "Well, my goodness."

Scott recognized her attempt to undermine him, to embarrass him. He maintained his even expression. Neither friendly nor

unfriendly.

"It's not right to break a promise to a child," he said.

Katherine drew herself up with a deep breath, and surveyed him, looking to Scott as though she was considering.

"She can stay for the next week," Katherine granted, and Scott's first reaction was relief.

"After that, she will need to return home again. It will be time for her to begin her lessons in French that I've arranged

for her. It will soon be time for a final decision about her schooling for this year, and what boarding school she should attend."

Still relieved about having a week for Charlie to stay, Scott was nonetheless disconcerted by the comments about boarding

school. He used every ounce of restraint in his ability to say nothing about it. He said only, "You can send a telegram when

you want me to bring Charlie back to Stockton."

He would not, he told himself, offer to do it without a direct commandment from her.

"Alright, Scott," she said, giving a brief nod. But no smile this time.

Scott nodded in return and went out, with neither one of them saying goodbye.

L

He was outside the hotel and on his way back to Val's office when he remembered his promise to Katherine, to find out about

the stage schedule. Since he had no intention of going back up to her room with the information, and he definitely did want her gone

on the stage, he found one of the McGuire twins, not entirely certain which one that it was, since they were identical. He gave the kid a nickel

and told him to find out about the stage leaving for Stockton and take the information up to Room 19 in the hotel.

When he got back to Val's office, he saw as he passed the window, that Johnny was inside, and he and Val were involved in a game

of checkers, while Charlie stood watching, leaning on Johnny's shoulder.

Scott stood still for a moment, unobserved from inside the jail office. Considering, he went back across the street

to the telegraph office. He sent the telegram to Mr. Beets, and hoped, in his desire to be quick about it, that he had used

the correct words.

Thinking then, that he'd done everything he could do at that moment of time, he went back over to the jail and inside.

The two checker-players looked up as he came in, as did Charlie, whose face lit up in relief.

She came running to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Scott knew that any other time that sort of welcome

from Charlie would have his heart leaping in happiness. At that moment, though, as he gave Charlie a hug in return and patted

her back, he felt only frustration, and inadequate.

"I was worried about you!" Charlie told him, looking up into his face.

"No need for you to worry," he said, trying to sound off-hand.

"What did Katherine say?" she asked then. "Mr. Val wouldn't tell me."

Scott looked to Val, and Val, pausing in his next checker move, said, "I told her that we'd talk to her about it when you got over here."

"What did she say?" Charlie asked again.

"Let me sit down for a minute, and catch my breath," Scott told her. "You still have some coffee, Val?"

"Still some in the pot there," Val said.

Scott went over to pour himself a cup of coffee, after Charlie had dislodged herself from his side.

He went to sit in a chair beside the table where the checker board was set up. The game had paused, and Scott met his brother's

eyes, each of them reading the other's emotions.

Charlie had come back, to lean against him as he sat down.

"Katherine's decided not to go back to Lancer with us today," Scott said firstly, addressing Charlie, and leading with what

he knew she would consider good news.

Instead of looking relieved, however, Charlie looked, instead, suspicious and worried.

"How come?" she asked.

"She just felt as though she needed to get back," Scott said.

He could tell that Charlie was wise to the fact that there was more to his short statement, but she only said, "Well, that's good, then. What

did she say about the man in the hallway?"

Scott sighed. "Sweetheart, she says there was no man in the hallway. At least not one that she spoke with."

"I told you that she would deny it all!" Charlie said, immediately becoming agitated. "She's a first-class liar!"

"Charlie-" Scott began.

"What about the man in the lobby? Did she deny that, too?" Charlie demanded.

As Val and Scott exchanged a glance between them, Charlie's instincts zeroed in. "You didn't ask her about that?" she said. "Why not?"

She was being sassy, and Scott knew he couldn't let it go on any longer.

"There is no reason why she can't have a conversation with somebody in the hotel lobby if she likes," Scott said.

Charlie was clearly flummoxed by his reply. "But that could be an important part of all this!" She turned her big eyes

on both Scott and Val combined. "What sort of investigative work is that?"

Already feeling as though he'd put in a full day, though it was still mighty early, Scott stood up, and put a hand on

her small shoulder. "Excuse us for a few minutes," he said, and Val nodded, while Johnny looked sympathetic.

He applied enough pressure to Charlie's shoulder to steer her to the door, and then, once he'd opened the door, outside. He pulled

the door closed behind them, and sat down on the wooden bench outside the office.

"Sit down here," he told her, gesturing to the spot beside him.

"Val said he was old, and that he could tell when people were trying to fool him!" Charlie burst out, still standing. "And I knew she

would deny it all! But I thought you two could see thru her, to the truth!"

"Sit down. Right now," Scott said, sounding severe.

Charlie sat down with a plop, looking at him with accusing eyes.

"We talked to her. We discussed it. We let her know your worries about it. There's no foundation to accuse her of

knowing anything about you being kidnapped," Scott said.

"But-" Charlie began to argue.

"Stop," Scott said. His tone was quiet, but there was enough of a threat in it to cause the little girl to listen. She halted anything

she had been going to say and looked at him. Though still accusingly.

"We are not going to let anything happen to you. We will keep you safe." Scott put as much assurance and firmness into the

words as he was able to.

"If you can," Charlie said, so softly he could hardly make out the words.

"What?" he asked, in a sharp tone.

"If you can. You might not be able to. And, I'm only worried for you and Johnny. And everybody else at home."

"Johnny and I can take care of ourselves. And take care of you and everyone at home, as well," Scott said.

Charlie looked at him, plainly still unconvinced.

"I think you'll feel better once we're home," Scott said. He, himself, felt more than ready to go home.

"It's a long way from town to Lancer," Charlie said.

Though he knew very well what she was getting at, Scott said, "Meaning what?"

"The man's probably watching for us to leave town. And then he'll be lying in wait-"

Scott caught Charlie up with a swiftness that startled her. "No one is going to be 'lying in wait', as you put it. We'll have

a totally uneventful ride home from town. Now, I'm sorry that you were scared, and worried. But everything is going to be

fine."

When he could tell that she was preparing to come forth with another comment about the mysterious man, Scott

felt his temper slip. "Charlie, that's enough," he said, in the strongest tone he could remember using with the little girl before. "Right now,

at this particular moment, I do not want to hear another word about any of this." He paused, eying her. "I mean it," he said, sternly.

Charlie eyed him back, taking in his tone, and the expression on his face.

"Do you understand?" he said, in finish.

Charlie nodded in response.

"Alright. Good," Scott said, feeling a sense of relief. He looked over Charlie, seeing that, though she looked properly subdued

from his sharp tone, there was a glimmer still, of stubbornness in her face.

Scott, feeling worn, decided to ignore that small slice of stubbornness. As long as she didn't use it in a wrong way, then

she could continue believing the worst of the man in the hotel lobby. She would, Scott told himself, see that there was nothing to

it all when they had an uneventful ride home.

He stood up. "You should thank Val for being so kind to you this morning," he reminded her.

Charlie stood up, as well, though she said nothing, only walking in front of Scott and going inside the jail.

Scott, closing the door, saw that she went past Val and Johnny, who had continued their checker game, and on

back towards the back of the jail.

"Where are you going?" Scott called after her.

"Have to finish back here," Charlie said, and disappeared towards the jail cells.

Scott looked at Val and Johnny and sighed.

"She won't see reason, huh?" Johnny guessed, correctly.

"No."

"Well," Val said, sounding a bit like an indulgent uncle. "She'll come around. Does she have to go with the aunt today, on the

stage?"

"No. She approved a week's longer visit," Scott said.

"And then what?" Johnny asked, quietly, so Charlie wouldn't overhear.

"Then it's back to French lessons, and boarding school."

"That's not right," Johnny said. "Shippin' that little kid off, so far from home."

"I've got a couple ideas," Val said, and when the brothers looked at him in question, he went on. "I don't want to say for sure until

I've found out more. In case I'm wrong, I don't want to get your hopes up."

"I appreciate anything you do," Scott said.

"Have a drink," Val told him. "Looks as though you could use one."

"I won't refuse it," Scott said.

So, after the three of them had had a shot or two of whiskey from the drawer in Val's desk, they were preparing

to head for home.

"I'll watch to see that our Katherine gets on that stage," Val told Scott.

"And I thank you for that."

Scott stood up, calling to the back of the jail. "Charlie! We're going."

A few moments went by, and when she still hadn't appeared, Johnny said, "I'll get her."

He went towards the back, and gone only for five minutes or less, he reappeared, leaning against the doorway between

the office and the cells.

"Scott, you might wanna go back there," he said.

Talking to Val near the open doorway of the office, Scott looked at his brother. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Says she won't come," Johnny said. He looked, Scott saw, somewhere between amused and put out.

"What do you mean, she won't come?" Scott asked, incredulously.

Johnny shrugged. "Says she's stayin' here, at the jail, so the two of us won't get shot up by the kidnapper."

For a moment, a long moment, Scott was utterly flabbergasted. What in the world was going on in Charlie's

mind?

"What the hell," he muttered, and stalked past Val, and then past Johnny, towards the cells. When he saw Charlie, sitting there

on one of the cots in one cell, with the cell door securely closed, he felt his temper begin to rise again.

He put a damper on it, as best as he could. "If this radical behavior is to make a point of some sort, well, I'm not

impressed," Scott said, putting his hands on his hips.

Charlie sat on the cot, still and quiet, just looking at him.

"Alright, Charlie, enough," he said, and looked to the wall above the cell where the keys usually hung. The hook was empty.

He looked to the next empty cell. No keys hung above that door, either.

"Val!" he called out. "Where's the keys?"

Val appeared nearly immediately. "Keys are right where they always are," he said.

"No. They're not."

Val cast a glance about, and then looked to Charlie. Johnny had by now appeared behind Val, as well, and all three

men were looking at the little girl.

"Alright, Just Charlotte," Val said, his tone still even and cajoling. "If you've taken my keys, you need to hand them back over."

It hadn't occurred to Scott that Charlie would have taken the keys, to lock herself in, and ensure that she would not have the cell unlocked.

He could see that Val was correct in his assumption, because Charlie's face showed guilt quite clearly.

"Charlie-" Scott began again, furiously. "You are making my palm positively itch."

"What does that mean?" Charlie asked, looking less staunch.

"It means you're getting a spanking. Now give the keys to Val. Right now."

Charlie stood up from her seat on the cot, her face showing that she recognized she'd gone too far. Three grown men stood

only inches from her, with only the safety of the cell door between her and them.

She stayed back far enough from the bars, twisting her hands together. "I just wanted to keep you safe-" she began, repeating

her previous words.

"Hand over the keys, pequeno," Johnny said. He was more surprised than anything else, by the lengths that

Charlie had gone to.

"I can't-" Charlie said, letting her voice trail off.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Scott demanded, feeling as though the top of his head might blow off.

"I gave them to a boy, outside the window," Charlie said, gesturing towards the window of the cell.

As Val frowned at her, and began to scold about what she'd done, and Scott looked as though he was

at a loss for words, Johnny said, "What boy?"

"Just a boy," Charlie said, looking unsure. "I've seen him at the store-"

"What was he wearin'?" Johnny asked.

"A brown shirt. And a hat."

"That describes half the kids in this town," Johnny said. "How old is he, you reckon?"

"Maybe about my age," Charlie said, looking frightened.

"What was he going to do with the keys?" Val demanded of her, and now he was angry, as well.

"He said he would bring them back-" Charlie said. "After a little while."

"Let's split up, and try to find the kid," Johnny suggested, and the three of them turned to go out.

"What about me?" Charlie asked, in a small voice, and Scott, being the last of the three to leave, paused to

look back at her.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Shouldn't somebody stay here, with me?" Charlie asked, and then noticeably wilted under the glare Scott gave her.

"I'd say that you're perfectly safe in there, from a kidnapper, or anybody else," Scott said, and then felt badly when Charlie

looked at him with those big eyes. It wasn't right, no matter how angry that he was with her, to belittle a child's fears. Even if

the supposed kidnapper was only real in her imagination.

So he amended his words somewhat, to return Charlie's line of thinking to what to expect once the keys were found.

"Or at least you're safe enough in there, until we get the door unlocked. Then, you're not going to be quite so safe," he

finished severely, and raised an eyebrow at her.

L


	38. Feelings awash

An hour later, after combing the streets, and stores, Johnny came back to the jail, and thru to the back. Charlie, who had

been standing on a cot, looking out thru the bars of the window, turned as she heard his footsteps.

"Did you find the boy?" she asked him, immediately.

"No, pequeno," Johnny said, and his face was serious.

"Oh," Charlie said, in a small voice.

She stepped down from the cot, and came over to the cell door, wrapping her hands around the bars.

"What if nobody finds him?" she asked then, worriedly. "Or he doesn't come back, like he said he would?"

Johnny gave her a long look, not answering.

"Will I have to sleep here?" she asked then.

Johnny stepped closer to the cell door. "I don't know. I reckon that's a possibility."

Horror filled Charlie's expression. "I don't wanna do that, Johnny!"

Johnny knew he should stay stern, severe, but he couldn't stand seeing her so stricken, even though she was in the

wrong.

"We'll figure somethin' out," he told her.

"Maybe Scott will want to leave me here tonight," Charlie said, dejectedly.

"You know better," Johnny said.

Charlie sighed, and Johnny took pity on her. "What else about this kid you gave the keys to? Anything different about him? Or anything

that he said?"

Charlie wrinkled her forehead in hard thought. "He said he had to go help sweep up at the church," she said. "That probably doesn't

help though, huh?"

"I don't know. It might," Johnny said. "I'll walk over there, see if I can find him."

"Okay," Charlie said, seeming sorry to see him go.

Johnny walked towards the small church, set at the end of the street. The preacher, Reverend James, was at the back of the

church, straightening the hymnals.

"Hello, Johnny," he said, pausing, in greeting.

"Reverend."

"What can I do for you?"

"Do you have a boy 'round here, that helps out? Sweeps up and such?" Johnny asked.

"Jason Conner?"

"I don't know his name. Just that he helps out here."

"Jason's here now, I think. Unless he's finished for the day. You might find him up front, near the pulpit."

Johnny thanked the parson and went in search of the boy. There was, indeed, a boy with a brown shirt, sweeping the aisles between

the pews.

"Jason?" Johnny asked, pausing.

The boy looked up, startled. "Yes, sir?" he asked.

"I need to talk to ya," Johnny said, and began walking towards him.

When he was near the boy, he came directly to the point. "Did you take a set of keys earlier today? From a little girl, out

the jail window?"

Immediately, the boy flushed, his guilt evident.

He gave Johnny a wary look.

"I just need the keys," Johnny said, trying to put him at ease.

"She asked me to keep 'em," the boy began to explain.

"I know. Can I have 'em, please?"

The boy took Johnny's demeanor in, and then went to the first pew, where he picked up a hat, and retrieved the set

of keys under it. He held them out to Johnny.

"The sheriff gonna be mad at me?" the boy asked.

"I don't believe he's happy."

"I wasn't gonna keep 'em, honest! I was gonna take 'em back, in an hour or so."

"Well, maybe later on today, you ought to go on over to the jail, and talk to the sheriff, and own up to what

you did," Johnny advised.

That the kid was frightened at the thought was evident, and Johnny added, quietly, "That's what a man would do."

The boy licked at his lips, and then nodded. "Yes, sir."

Johnny turned to go then, and paused to turn back when the boy said, "I knew I shouldn't have done it-but she said

somethin' about bein' kidnapped, and she seemed right upset about it. Guess I let her talk me into it."

Johnny hid a smile. "Yeah. Well, you make sure you get over to the jail later."

"I will."

As Johnny crossed the street towards the jail, he saw Val at another corner, and Scott waiting out front of the jail building.

When he was nearly upon where his brother stood, Johnny held up the ring of keys.

"You found him," Scott said, looking relieved.

"Charlie remembered somethin' that he'd said. Turned out to help."

"Hmmph," Scott said, in reply.

As Val came nearer, Johnny said quietly, "What are you gonna do to pequeno?"

Scott met Johnny's eye. "Just what I said."

"Hmmm," Johnny said.

"You have an opinion?" Scott asked sounding irritated.

"Nope. No opinion," Johnny said, raising a hand. "Not my decision to make."

"But if it was, you'd handle it differently, is that what you're saying?"

"I didn't say that."

They exchanged a long look between them, as Val strode up. "You found the kid?" he barked, sounding vastly

irritated.

"I did," Johnny said, holding the keys up again. "The boy's gonna come over later today to talk to you about his part

in it."

"Is he, now?" Val asked.

"Uh huh. Seems like a nice kid."

"I figure as I can decide that on my own," Val snapped.

"You need a beer?" Johnny asked him.

"Let's get my guest in there, released back out into the world," Val said. "Then we can talk about a beer."

Val took the keys from Johnny, and he was the first one to the cell. Charlie was sitting on a cot, her knees pulled up

to her chest, looking worried.

Scott let Val take the lead. His office. His keys.

Val unlocked the cell door, and then pushed it open with a hand. He hung up the set of keys on the hook where they belonged,

and then faced the little girl.

"Stand up, and come over here," he said, gruffly.

Charlie hesitated only a second, and then stood up, coming over to stand in the cell doorway, looking up at Val.

"You took liberty with jail property, gave it someone who had no business with it. You took time that I could have been

doing other things, things that might have been important to someone around town. But instead, I was using time to

find jail property, because you thought it would be entertaining, am I right?" Val's tone was sharp. Stern.

"No-" Charlie said, shaking her head in protest.

"Excuse me?" Val demanded.

"I took liberty, like you said, and I took your time. But I wasn't trying to find entertainment by it. Honest, I wasn't."

Val regarded her small, serious face, and then sighed. "Alright. Well, I'm not going to say anymore to you about it. Because

I know Scott's going to have something to say to you."

He turned to Johnny. "Let's go have that beer," he said.

He turned to walk out, and Johnny followed, laying a hand on Scott's shoulder just momentarily, in support.

At Val's last comment, about Scott having something to say to her, Charlie had visibly paled.

Scott stood still, and quiet, surveying Charlie, his hands on his hips.

"I only wanted to look out for you, Scott-" Charlie began.

Scott put a finger to his lips, and Charlie's voice trailed off to silence.

He crooked a finger at her. "Come on," he said, turning to walk out towards the outer office.

Charlie shuffled after him, slowly, and Scott went to sit behind Val's desk, pulling out his chair. Charlie paused

halfway across the room, and Scott gave her a long look.

"Charlie," he said simply.

And she came then, to him, her steps obviously reluctant.

When she was within a few steps, she stopped again, and Scott, without saying anything more, reached out to

tug her over to stand in front of him.

"I spent time earlier, explaining things to you," Scott said, nodding towards the jail door. "Right outside on the bench there. Remember?"

Charlie gave a brief nod.

"And even after that talk we had, you came in and locked yourself into a cell, and passed the keys off to another kid. That's wrong,

Charlie."

"But, Scott-" Charlie began to protest.

Scott gave her a shake. "Stop," he said, in a commanding tone. "No excuses. You haven't behaved as you should have here

this morning."

Charlie looked subdued, and turned her big eyes on him.

"I am sorry, about the keys," she said. "And causing all that trouble."

Scott nodded. "Well, you can apologize to Val."

He took a firmer grip on Charlie. "You can do that a little bit later, though. Right now, you know what's going to happen."

Charlie's eyes widened even larger in horror. Plainly, she'd hoped that he wouldn't keep to the threat he'd made earlier.

"You don't have to, Scott!" she said, in a burst of words. "Honest, you don't! I understand real well now-"

"Stop," he ordered, again, and Charlie fell silent.

"There's no talking or complaining that's going to get you out of it," Scott said bluntly.

He pulled the little girl closer, and across his knee. If he'd been able to read Charlie's thoughts at that moment,

he would have heard her telling herself that she'd survived thru Johnny's swats to her rear that day in Stockton. So this

would be no worse, she was sure.

By the second to third application of Scott's hand to her bottom, Charlie knew she'd been wrong. Vastly wrong. Johnny's smacks

had stung, but not like this. This felt like bee stings. Worse than bee stings. As Scott continued on, Charlie

hollered and wriggled, and cried, wondering how on the face of the earth it was possible that kids everywhere were able to

withstand such an onslaught to their backsides. This had been being done to kids all along?

When he stopped, and stood her on her feet again, Charlie was limp with relief. Yet the relief she felt was tainted with

the continuing sting.

She covered her face with her hands, sobbing.

There was only the sound of Charlie crying, and the ticking of Val's clock in the corner. After a few minutes, Scott reached

out to put a hand on her waist, pulling her closer again.

"Let me see your face," he said quietly, and pulled her hands away from her face.

Not struggling, Charlie let him move her hands, and then stood there, as he gently wiped at her face with the

handkerchief he kept in his pocket.

Charlie thought about pulling away, turning her back to him, but his voice and his face were kind again. So she kept

her big eyes on him, watching his expression as he mopped at her tears.

"I'm sorry," she said, in a near whisper, and Scott looked at her intently, putting the handkerchief back into his shirt

pocket.

"You made a mistake. It's over and done with," Scott said.

He rubbed a hand up and down her back in comforting circles.

Charlie looked at him wordlessly then, though her eyes were speaking volumes. Scott lifted her to sit her on his

lap, leaning back in Val's chair a bit.

She responded immediately, snuggling her face into his shirt front. For a long few minutes they sat there

in the quiet.

The only spoken word in those few minutes was when Scott said quietly, "I care a lot about you. I'm not trying to

be mean to you."

Charlie, who was puzzling over why she wasn't mad at Scott, was brought back to earth as the door to the jail

opened, and Johnny and Val came inside.

"Everything settled here?" Val asked, still sounding irritated.

"Settled. I think," Scott answered.

"Good. Good," Val said.

Scott gave Charlie a pat, to urge her to her feet, and then he stood up as well. Charlie stood beside him, as the three

men talked about other things. She was feeling shy. Embarrassed.

Once they were preparing to leave, to head back to the ranch, Val followed them out front to where their horses were

still tied.

"I'll see you boys later on," Val was saying.

Charlie paused, still holding onto Scott's hand.

"I'm sorry for giving the key to someone else, Mr. Val."

Val looked at her face, and then leaned down to eye level with her. "I was thinking that we were becoming friends. It would

be a great disappointment to me if that wasn't the case."

"I want to be your friend," Charlie said earnestly.

"Well, that's good, then. Because I want to be your friend, too."

Val tapped the end of her nose lightly with his finger. "No more shenanigans here at the jail. Agreed?"

Charlie nodded, bobbing her head in agreement.

"Alright, then. Clean slate between us," Val said, and winked at the little girl.

After Scott had mounted his horse, he held down a hand to Charlie, and then swung her up onto the horse behind him.

Hanging on, around Scott's waist, bouncing up and down, made her behind start to smart again, and Charlie had

to squeeze back tears. She was so focused on that, that they were nearly to the ranch when she realized that they'd made it

back just fine, and that no man, intent on kidnapping, had tried to take shots at them.

Somehow, that made her feel like crying even more. Not that she wanted to be kidnapped. Or have Johnny and Scott

involved in an altercation with a mysterious man. Of course not. That had been the whole basis to her stunt today at the jail, to

protect them. But here they were, just fine. And she felt so foolish. She'd gotten herself into such trouble, all for nothing.

Jelly's goose was waddling around the yard, and Teresa was taking clothes off of the line.

"I hope Maria is planning a big spread for lunch," Johnny said, swinging down from his horse.

Scott wrapped a hand around Charlie's arm, lowering her to the ground. When he stood down, they led their

horses to unsaddle. Scott paused in his walking to turn back to the little girl.

"Don't go far," he said. "Alright?"

"I'll go up to my room," Charlie said, and began to walk across the yard. Watching her go, Johnny caught a glimpse as she

rubbed at the seat of the brown overalls.

"Didn't even wanna go see the kittens," Johnny observed.

Scott cast a glance after Charlie's slight figure. "She'll be alright."

Still watching as the child went into the house, Johnny said, almost to himself, "You don't reckon there's somethin' to

it, do ya?"

"Something to what?" Scott asked.

"This kidnapping theory that she has in her mind."

"Johnny," Scott said, sounding exasperated.

"I'm just sayin', is all," Johnny defended his words. "Might not be any harm in doing some sleuthin'."

Scott stopped to give Johnny his full attention. "You're serious."

Johnny shrugged. "Just a thought, is all."

After a long moment of intense silence, Scott said, "Where would you begin this 'sleuthing' at? If you were to do it?"

Johnny grinned at his older brother. He'd hooked Scott, and he knew it. And he knew that Scott knew it, too.

L

This chapter took awhile to write. I debated about having Scott change his mind about following thru with a spanking. But this

is the way that it went. I had a reviewer one time tell me that there is no way that either one of the brothers would ever ever spank

a child. I hope it's believable and rings true as I wrote it. Because I, of course, think Scott (if he were real) would be one of the

kindest guys around.


	39. A cautious sort

Scott and Johnny went on about their chores after that, coming up on their father riding with a couple of the other ranch hands. They

pulled up and the group of men discussed the status of certain work projects.

Murdoch sent the two hands on ahead, and he and his sons sat in a semi circle, on their horses.

"Is Katherine at the house?" Murdoch asked them. "Did you leave Teresa with her?"

"No," Scott said, and at Murdoch's raised eyebrow, Scott added, "She didn't come back with us. She's returning to Stockton."

"Oh?" Murdoch asked.

"It's our lucky day," Johnny quipped in humor, earning a look from both brother and father.

"She just changed her mind?" Murdoch inquired, puzzled.

"There's a bit more to it than that," Scott said.

"Well, what about the child?"

"She's at the house," Scott verified.

"That's good," Murdoch said, looking relieved. He leaned forward in the saddle. "How about this morning? What was the situation that

Val needed your help with?"

The brothers exchanged a look between them. "That's a bit of a story, as well," Scott said.

"Hmm," Murdoch said.

L

Murdoch went back to the house earlier than he'd planned to. He wanted, if he'd had to admit it, to see Charlie. There had been something

in Scott's expression earlier, that suggested that something was amiss with the little girl.

He went into the coolness of the house, hanging up his hat, and going to the kitchen, asking Maria if she knew where Charlie was.

When Maria responded with the news that she had not seen the child for the last hour, but thought she might be upstairs in her room,

Murdoch had the intention to go there. Firstly, he went to his study, and when he went into the room, he went to the front of his desk,

sorting thru the papers, looking for something in particular.

Quietly, a small voice said, "Hello, Murdoch," and Charlie's auburn head peeked around from where she sat in the big chair behind his

desk.

"Hello, sweetheart," he greeted her.

"I borrowed one of your books," Charlie said, leaning forward. "Is that alright?"

"Certainly it's alright," Murdoch said.

Charlie stood up, holding the above-mentioned book at her side. "Did you want to sit at your desk?" she asked.

"I was actually planning to locate where you were at. I thought perhaps we could spend some time together."

Charlie looked up at the big man. "I'd like that, a lot," she said.

"Well, that's fine, then. Shall we sit in here? Or up in your room?"

"Could we sit in here?" Charlie asked. "I like this room."

Murdoch nodded in response, and came around to where Charlie stood.

"Is that your sketchbook?" Charlie asked him, pointing to what he held in his hand.

"No. Actually, this is your sketchbook."

"Mine?" Charlie asked, looking surprised.

"Yes. I bought it for you when I was in town last."

Charlie watched as Murdoch came around behind the desk, moving the chair that Charlie had been sitting in.

He sat down, and patted the space beside him, in the oversized chair.

Charlie sat down, looking at the sketchbook.

"Why did you buy it for me?" she asked him. "I'm not good at drawing. Not like you."

"On the contrary, I think that you are quite good at drawing," Murdoch said. He turned back the cover of the sketchbook,

revealing the first blank page.

"I got you some sketching pencils, as well," Murdoch said, and reached into his desk drawer, to pull out a box of

sharpened pencils.

Charlie was still looking at the sketchbook, and then at Murdoch, alternately, as if puzzled.

"I don't think I should have them," she said, sounding regretful.

"Why not?" Murdoch asked, not missing the longing look that Charlie was giving the supplies.

"I did something in town-that wasn't right. Mr. Val was real angry. And Scott was, too."

"I see." Murdoch pulled a pencil out of the box, and began to sketch the first thing that came to mind. The house, and the

barns, and the trees around Lancer. "So," he said, continuing with his drawing, "Because you misbehaved, and did something

naughty, you don't feel you should have these things?"

"Well," she said, obviously torn between being honest, and getting her hands on that sketchpad, "I don't know, exactly."

"As we sit here, if you want to tell me about what happened, you can. And then, when Scott comes in, you can show him

these things, and we'll see what he says. I'm fairly certain that he'll think it's fine," Murdoch said. He stopped with his drawing to

look into her face. "Alright?"

Charlie nodded earnestly. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Murdoch held out the pencil in his hand. "Now you take over."

"It's Lancer," Charlie said, taking the pencil, and looking at what Murdoch had drawn.

"Yes."

"You mean, just keep drawing on it?" she asked.

"Add to it, if you'd like."

"What do I add, though?" she asked.

"Whatever you feel."

Charlie studied the sketched picture and then began to draw on her own, adding details, and even putting Jelly's pig in, as if

he was coming out of the barn.

"Very good," Murdoch said in praise.

"Do you think so?"

"I do."

Charlie studied her part of the sketch, and then reached down to shade in one of the trees a bit more.

After a few minutes, she handed the sketch pad to Murdoch, and asked him to draw something on the second page.

As he drew, Charlie leaned into his arm, watching. And then quietly, she said, "Katherine decided not to come back

again today."

"Yes, Scott told me."

"I think she and Scott had an argument."

Murdoch was silent, and Charlie went on. "I'm not sure about that part, but anyway, she said she had to go back to Stockton."

"Did you have a pleasant evening with her last night at the hotel?" he asked.

Charlie hesitated, and then said, "No," in a small voice.

"You didn't have an opportunity to talk together?"

"No."

"Well, that's unfortunate. I was hoping that the two of you would be able to talk."

"We never have before. I knew last night wouldn't be any different than any other time," Charlie said, bluntly, and then

tilted her face up to his. "Does that sound rude, Murdoch?"

"I suppose it does sound a bit rude," Murdoch said mildly. At Charlie's abashed look, Murdoch added, "We're having

a frank conversation between us. I think in this case you can state your thoughts without worrying about being rude."

Charlie's smile at the older man was genuine, and grateful.

"That isn't to say that I expect to hear you saying things that are unkind, or unnecessarily hurtful, about someone else," Murdoch told

her.

"Yes, sir," Charlie said. As Murdoch sketched on, Charlie told him about the evening before, and about the morning, culminating with

her set-to with Scott.

"An eventful few hours, that's for certain," Murdoch observed.

"I don't like to have Scott angry or upset with me," Charlie said, in a soft voice.

"I know, darling."

"Why is that, Murdoch?"

"Why is what, my dear?"

"Why do I care so much what Scott thinks, but I don't care a whit what Katherine thinks or feels?"

Murdoch paused in his drawing, to look at her face, pressed so close to his shoulder. He was choosing his words to

reply, when there were sounds of the front door opening and closing, and boot steps echoing throughout the house.

"Hey, Murdoch!" Johnny could be heard calling out.

"In the study," Murdoch called back.

Johnny appeared at the doorway of the room. "We'll finish up that fencing after lunch, alright?"

As he and Murdoch spoke for a few minutes, Scott came from behind Johnny. "Have you seen Charlie?" he asked his brother.

"Right here," Johnny said, nodding towards the oversized chair, where Charlie sat with their father.

"Ah," Scott said, taking it in. "What are you two up to?" he asked.

"Having some time together," Murdoch said, nodding to Charlie, as he got to his feet. "Show the boys what you've drawn," he

urged.

Charlie gave Murdoch a skeptical look, but stood up obediently, and took the sketch book over to where Scott stood,

turning it to the first page.

As she held it out, he took it, and said, "You drew this?"

"No. Murdoch drew the house. I drew those trees and some of the animals," Charlie said, pointing out her contributions to the

picture.

"It's very well done," Scott said, handing it back to her. He ran a hand over her hair.

"Murdoch bought the pad and some pencils for me, to practice with," Charlie said, looking up at Scott.

"Did he?" Scott asked. "That was nice, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Charlie said with a nod.

As the family finished lunch, Teresa made mention of the fact that she planned to go and visit a friend in town that afternoon.

The same friend that had the younger sister who was Charlie's age. Lucy Stone.

"Would you like to go along with me?" Teresa offered.

Charlie paused, and then set her glass of milk down. She looked hesitant to answer.

Teresa obviously picked up on that, and said, "You don't have to, if you don't want to. I just thought you might enjoy it."

Johnny, seeing Charlie's expression, said, "I didn't think the girls got on so well together last time."

"Well, no," Teresa admitted. "But it never hurts, to give a person another chance. Don't you think so, Charlie?"

When Charlie's expression still looked as though she were debating eating raw liver, Teresa said, "Well, think about it, and let me know. I'm

leaving in about two hours." She stood up, and began to clear the table of dishes.

Charlie finished the last few bites on her plate, and then, she stood up as well, taking her own and going to take Murdoch's plate,

stacking them. She paused beside Scott's chair, as he was talking to Murdoch.

"Do you think I should go with Teresa?" Charlie asked him, when he'd looked at her.

"Do you want to go?" he countered.

"No. Not really."

"It's up to you. It might be that you and she get along better this time, if you were to go."

He patted her waist, and then he and Johnny made ready to go back outside.

"Have you looked after your horse today?" Johnny asked, pausing to look down at her.

"No."

"Don't you think you should be doin' that?" Johnny asked, pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, Johnny," she said.

So after she'd helped Maria with the dishes, Charlie went out, catching Gurth from the pasture, and leading him to the barn. She

curried him, and braided his mane, doing her best to lift his feet, and check them for soreness or stones.

At the last minute possible, she went inside and up to her room, washing her hands and face, and putting on a simple

blue dress, and her best shoes.

She presented herself to Teresa, just as the older girl was fastening on her hat.

"I'm glad you changed your mind," Teresa said, with a smile.

So the two girls set out for town. Charlie, who had a purpose to what the topic of conversation would be on the way, wasted no

time in coming to the point.

"Will you tell me about how Murdoch became your guardian?" she asked.

"Oh. Well, my father and Murdoch were great friends for many years. When he died, he had already talked to Murdoch, and so it was planned

that he would be my guardian if something were to happen to him."

"It sounds simple," Charlie said.

"I suppose it's simple enough," Teresa agreed. "My father had talked to me about it, as well, so it wasn't a surprise to me."

"Did you want Murdoch to be your guardian?"

Teresa looked thoughtful. "Well, I missed my father, of course. We were very close. But, I knew Murdoch, and I respected him. I

knew I was fortunate to have him there for me, because I'm not sure where I would have gone, otherwise." Teresa flapped

the reins she held in her hands. "And then, eventually, that respect and appreciation I had for Murdoch, turned to love for him."

"Was he ever angry at you?" Charlie asked.

"Oh, my, yes," Teresa said, with a smile. "At least two or three times, he's been seriously upset with me about something."

"But he wanted to be your guardian?" Charlie persisted. "He wasn't just doing it for-" she hesitated. "For any other reasons?"

"You mean money? Or property?" Teresa asked, looking surprised. "Murdoch has plenty of his own. He would have no need of anything

my father had, which wasn't much at all."

"I didn't mean that I thought he was like that," Charlie said hastily, feeling disloyal to the big man. "I didn't think he was. It's just-did he

make you feel as though he wanted you?"

Teresa gave her complete attention to the little girl. "Of course he did. He was very kind about it. And patient with me. We had

quite a lot of conversations about all of it."

"Oh," Charlie said, quietly, and subsided.

Teresa was quiet too, for a few minutes, and then she said, "I never doubted that Murdoch loved me."

Charlie nodded. "That's good. That must have made you feel safe."

"Yes, it did," Teresa said, and realized that Charlie, in her way, was searching for answers and affirmation of where

she belonged.

They were nearly to town now though, so Teresa thought she would table the conversation until later.

L

The two hours at the Stone home were a success, to Teresa's delight. Lucy and Charlie seemed to do much better, even dissolving into

giggles a couple of times. After their visit, Teresa told Charlie she needed to pick up some items at the mercantile, and so they walked

down the sidewalk.

Teresa was looking at hair ribbons, and asking Charlie what color she preferred, when Charlie, whose attention was focused more

on the candy jars, saw Teresa nod to someone. Her eyes followed to a man, who was leaving the store.

She left Teresa and went to look out the door. He was dressed differently, and he was wearing a black hat, but Charlie thought he looked

like the man in the hotel lobby. The one who had been talking to her aunt.

She watched as the man crossed the street, where he petted a horse that was tied at the hitching post, and went into the saloon.

Teresa came up from behind, a paper sack in her hands. "Ready?" she asked.

Charlie followed, as they walked to the buggy.

"Who was that man?" she asked Teresa.

"What man?" the older girl asked.

"The one in the store. The one you nodded to."

"I don't know who he is."

"Why are you nodding to him, then?" Charlie asked. "Is that what a lady is supposed to do?"

"He nodded to me. And so I nodded in return," Teresa said, sounding irritated. "There was nothing wrong in that."

Not wanting Teresa to be vexed with her, Charlie said, "I didn't mean anything, Teresa."

Then she said, "I think I saw him talking to my aunt in the hotel lobby."

"Oh?" Teresa said, clucking her tongue to the horse to put him into motion.

"If I tell you about it, you won't say anything, will you?"

"Why would I say anything about it?" Teresa asked, perplexed.

"It's just that Scott-" Charlie began. "Never mind."

"Tell me," Teresa insisted.

So Charlie began to weave thru the fabric of the story of the evening before. How that particular gentlemen had been talking to

her aunt, and it had seemed very mysterious. And then hearing the voices in the hallway in the nighttime.

Teresa looked serious, and thoughtful. "Hmm," she said. "That does sound strange."

She was surprised by the suddenness and strength of the hug that Charlie thrust upon her.

"What's that for?" she asked the younger girl.

"Because you said it's strange! Because you don't act as though you think I'm just full of notions!"

Teresa pulled the buggy to a stop in the road, just outside of town.

"And Scott thinks that? That you're just full of notions?" she asked Charlie.

"It wasn't like that, exactly. He believes me, that I was frightened. And all. But-" she chewed on her lower lip. "But I don't think

he believes me about all of it. Like the man in the hallway. He thinks I'm getting worked up about something that's not really

true-"

"Hmm. Yes. Scott's very analytical," Teresa said.

"What's that?"

"Oh," Teresa waved a hand. "It means-that he likes to think things thru, be very certain about details, and all like that."

Charlie thought how very well that described Scott. Then, feeling as though she should, she defended, "He went with Mr. Val to

talk to Katherine about it all, though. And I think they had an argument about it. So. it's not as though he doesn't care-"

"Oh, of course he cares, silly!" Teresa said. "He's just a very cautious sort of person."

"Yes," Charlie agreed, and then waited, while Teresa continued to sit, not moving the buggy.

"Are we going?" she asked the older girl.

"I was just thinking," Teresa said, "That maybe we should see what we could find out about the man. It may not be that easy,

because he's a stranger in town, I'm certain of that."

Charlie was looking at her, wide-eyed. "What about them at home?" she asked incredulously.

"What about them?"

"Well, they won't like it! I don't wanna get into trouble with Scott again!"

"There's no reason to get into trouble. I'm only talking about trying to find out his name, and what he's doing in town. That

sort of thing."

"Oh," Charlie said, regarding Teresa with new admiration.

"That way maybe you can set your mind at ease about him," Teresa added.

"Yes," Charlie agreed, nodding.

Teresa turned the buggy, heading back into town.

L


	40. Known as a salesman

Teresa parked the buggy near the same spot as before, with Charlie saying, "I saw him go into the saloon."

"Hmm," Teresa said, eying the saloon doors.

"You aren't going to go in there, are you?" Charlie asked, her eyes wide.

"No. Of course not. We'll wait until he comes out."

"What if he doesn't come out for a long time, though?" Charlie asked.

"We'll only wait for a little while," Teresa said, keeping her eyes on the saloon.

After a few minutes, Teresa said, "There's my friend, April, and her brother." She dismounted from the buggy, pulling her

skirt out of the way.

Charlie hopped down as well.

When Teresa called to April, the other girl turned with a wave, and came across to greet Teresa.

There was a whispered conversation between them, and then April went back across the street, where she caught her brother's

sleeve, and spoke in what looked like an insistent manner.

A moment or so later, the brother looked over to Teresa, and gave a small wave. Teresa waved in return, with a smile.

Then the brother went inside the swinging doors of the saloon.

"Bex will find out the man's name," Teresa said, with satisfaction. "And what he's doing around here."

Charlie nodded, finding that she felt flushed with nerves.

As they stood there, beside the buggy, waiting, it grew hotter and hotter, it seemed. April, who had gone on down

to the millinery store, called across to Teresa.

She moved swiftly across the street. "Mrs. Hayes says she knows about that man. Come with me, and she'll talk to us."

"Alright. Come on, Charlie," Teresa said.

"I'll wait here," Charlie said.

"Alright. But, don't go anywhere."

Charlie, leaning against the buggy, her arm around the horse's neck, was watching for April's brother to reappear out of the

saloon doors, when a tap on her shoulder, and a voice startled her so that she jumped.

"Hullo again, Just Charlotte."

Charlie whirled to look up at Val. "Hello," she managed.

"I thought you'd gone home this morning."

"Yes." Then realizing that Val was looking at her, in a puzzled way, Charlie added, "I did. But-I'm with Teresa. We went

to see the Stones."

"Ah. Well, that's nice."

Feeling awkward, Charlie said, "Yes," again.

Val looked about. "Where is Teresa?" he asked then.

"She-went to the hat shop for a minute," Charlie said.

"Why didn't you go along? It's mighty hot to just be standing out here."

"I just thought I'd wait here," Charlie said, vaguely.

Val studied her for a long moment. "How about we go and get ourselves a cold lemonade at the Longhorn?"

Feeling guilty about sleuthing about with Teresa, even though she told herself there was nothing wrong with what they were

doing, Charlie knew she couldn't sit across the table from Val and not succumb to nerves.

"Teresa will be right along," Charlie said. "Then we have to be heading home. Thank you, anyway."

Val studied her a bit more intensely. "You alright?"

"Yes," Charlie said, trying to sound cheerful. "Fine."

"You and Scott work everything out?"

Charlie's cheeks flushed pink in color. "Yes, sir."

"Well, I know it might seem to you that he was being tough, but it's out of caring."

Charlie gave a brief nod of understanding.

"Well, alright, then," Val said, giving her a last look-over. "I'll see you later, then."

As Val turned and was walking away, Charlie said, "Mr. Val?"

Val turned back. "Yeah?"

"Did Katherine leave on the stage?"

"Yes, she did."

"Okay. I just wondered, is all."

Val nodded then. "See you later," he said again.

"See you later," Charlie echoed.

L

Soon after, Teresa reappeared, coming out of the hat shop with her friend, April. They had a conversation on the sidewalk, and

then Teresa came back across the street to the buggy.

"His name is John Taylor," Teresa said. "He's a salesman. That's what he tells people."

"You mean he's not really a salesman?" Charlie asked, drawn into the story.

"Well, nobody really knows. He has tried to sell some of his products around, but Mrs. Hayes says he's the

worst salesman she's ever seen."

"Why?"

"Because. He doesn't seem to care if he sells anything or not," Teresa said.

"Oh. April's brother hasn't come out of the saloon yet."

"Oh, that's alright," Teresa said. "Likely he'll spend all afternoon in there. Besides, we found out the man's name, anyway."

Teresa climbed up into the buggy, and Charlie came after her.

"I know it's not a lot," Teresa said, looking at the doors of the saloon. "But it's more than you knew before."

"Thanks, Teresa. It was nice of you-"

Charlie saw that Teresa's attention wasn't really focused on her. "Teresa?" she said.

"What?" Teresa asked, still watching the saloon.

"Are we going to stay around longer?"

Teresa looked down at the little girl. "No. We'd better be getting home. Murdoch will be worried."

As they drove past the stores and down the street, Charlie said, "I guess I was wrong about that man."

"Maybe so," Teresa said, sounding thoughtful.

As they neared Lancer, there were men on horseback in the pastures. Then Johnny began to ride toward the buggy.

Teresa pulled the buggy to a stop, as he galloped up.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, without any other greeting.

"We were visiting at the Stone's," Teresa said mildly.

"All this time? I thought you said you'd be home long before now."

"I didn't know we were on a schedule," Teresa said, with spirit, and Charlie watched the exchange between them, halfway between

fascination, and the other half fearful Teresa would spill the beans.

Johnny's eyes narrowed at Teresa's reply. "I didn't say you were," he returned. "I was gettin' concerned, that's all."

"No need for concern," Teresa said.

"Don't tell me when to be concerned and when not to be," Johnny said, and for a long few moments, both of their

eyes flashed, and Charlie thought they were really going to argue.

"There were a lot of people in town," Charlie said, thinking to distract both of them from their irritation.

Neither one of them paid her the slightest bit of attention.

"I think you and me ought to talk for a bit," Johnny said, his blue eyes on Teresa.

"You just remarked on how late we were getting home," Teresa reminded him. "I'm sure Maria needs my help

preparing supper."

Johnny leaned back into his saddle. "Alright. You go do that," he said. "We can talk after supper."

"If that's what you'd like," Teresa said, airily.

And then she clucked her tongue to the horse, and put the buggy into motion. At the barn she parked, and they both got down,

as a hand came from the corral to unhitch the buggy.

"Johnny's mad," Charlie said, really low, to Teresa.

"He'll get over it," Teresa responded, not sounding concerned.

"But, aren't you worried about him being mad?" Charlie persisted.

"I can handle Johnny. Don't worry." Teresa patted Charlie's shoulder. "Let's get in and get started on our chores."

Teresa went upstairs to change her clothes, and Charlie did the same, pulling on a pair of denims and an everyday blouse.

Teresa was already in the kitchen, helping Maria with the supper preparations. Charlie was sent outside to gather the eggs, and

when she came back inside, and asked where Scott was, she was told he'd gone upstairs to change his shirt.

Charlie slipped up the stairs, going to Scott's half-open bedroom door, and rapping lightly.

Scott turned to see her standing there, and motioned her inside. "Hey, there," he greeted her.

"Hi," Charlie said, coming on into the room.

"How was your afternoon at the Stone's?" Scott asked.

Charlie went over to sit on the edge of the tall bed, swinging her legs. "It was nice. Lucy and I got along real well this time."

Scott stopped, turning to look at her with a smile. "That's good. I'm glad."

Charlie nodded, and watched as he turned back to the mirror, buttoning his shirt.

"Scott?" Charlie ventured.

"Hmm?"

"I like being here, at Lancer."

"Lancer's better when you're here," Scott replied. When he heard Charlie sigh a little, he looked at her reflection in the mirror again.

She was plucking at the quilt on the bed, seemingly in her own thoughts.

Scott went over to sit down on the bed beside her. "What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly.

Charlie shrugged. "I don't know," she said, in a small voice, not meeting his eye.

"I think you do know," Scott contradicted. "If there's something on your mind, you can tell me about it, you know."

Charlie turned her attention from the quilt threads to look up into his face. "Sometimes, if a person doesn't have

any folks, then they have to have to a guardian."

"Sometimes," Scott said, slowly, trying to follow the direction of her thoughts.

"Like me."

"That's right."

"And Teresa? Murdoch became her guardian."

"Yes. He did."

"And sometimes, a guardian can be changed, from one person to another. Isn't that right?"

"Sometimes," Scott said.

"I know why Katherine's my guardian. It's because of the money she gets every month to have me. I know without that, she

wouldn't have done it."

Knowing, to deny it, would be what he believed to be a falsehood, Scott sighed, trying to choose his words with care. Before he could speak, Charlie

went on. "I guess it was okay of her, because I might have had to go to an orphanage or something, if she hadn't taken me. But it's

different now. I want you to be my guardian, Scott."

Scott felt, not surprised, not at all, but so fearful of saying the wrong thing.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight against his side.

"It's not as easy as it sounds," he began slowly.

"Oh, I know. It takes some doing. And even though Katherine says it won't happen, can't you try?"

Scott blinked, collecting his thoughts. "Just a minute now," he said. "What did Katherine say to you?"

Charlie met his eyes. "She told me you went to talk to Mr. Beets. And that you said that you would. Be willing to be

my guardian."

"Ah," Scott said. "I wish she hadn't said that."

"It's not true?" Charlie asked, her big eyes looking worried.

Scott gave her a tighter pull to his side.

"It's true," he assured the child. "I did tell Mr. Beets that."

"I'll try really hard, Scott!" Charlie said. "To do things that make you proud of me. So you won't be sorry

that you became my guardian!"

"Charlie," Scott said, and then fell silent. He pulled her up, and sat her on his knee. "I want you to listen to me now. And

listen very carefully. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, her eyes fixed upon his face.

"I would like very much to become your guardian, or whatever's needed, so that you could stay here, with all of us." He smoothed

back her hair from her face. "With me. A child's guardian can't just be changed, though. Not without very, very good reasons. That's

why I didn't say anything to you about it before. I didn't want to raise your hopes."

He surveyed her small, serious face, eyes still wide with emotion. He went on, "And if I was fortunate enough to be named as your guardian, there

wouldn't be anything in this world that you did that would make me sorry for doing it."

"Even if I do something wrong? Like give the jail keys to someone?" Charlie asked.

Scott felt the corners of his mouth want to turn up in a smile. "Even then."

"Will you still try, then? Since you haven't changed your mind?" Charlie asked.

Scott hesitated, uncertain how much of the conversation with Mr. Beets he should reveal. Even though, the older man had

obviously spoken to Katherine about it, when he should not have. And then Katherine, in her turn, had spoken to Charlie. Which had been

very wrong.

"I'll still talk to Mr. Beets," he said carefully. "I want you to remember, though. A guardianship is like a trust. It can't be

broken, unless there are reasons that it should be."

"Like what sort of reasons?" Charlie asked, and Scott could nearly see the wheels of thought turning in her brain.

"I don't think you need to worry about that part of it," Scott said, not wanting to give her any ideas to put into action.

"I have an idea," Charlie said, sitting up straighter on his knee, and looking decidedly brighter.

"And what's your idea?" he asked.

"We could talk to Mr. Beets, and I could tell him that I want Katherine to keep getting some money every month, even though I wouldn't be

living with her anymore. I'm sure she'd agree to it, then! And you could have money, too, every month, for me to stay here-"

Scott pressed a finger against her lips. "Shush," he said, and when she was quiet, he took his hand away.

"Charlie, I would never take any money for having you here," he said firmly.

"Really?" she asked, incredulously.

"Really."

Scott tightened his hold. "The main thing I want you to remember is, that without good reason, a guardianship will not be

overturned."

"Could we get a lawyer?" the little girl asked earnestly. "We could use some of my money to pay for it."

"Sweetheart," Scott began, and then paused, with a sigh. He didn't want to make promises that would be difficult, if not impossible,

to keep. It wouldn't be fair.

"I will talk to Mr. Beets again. I've asked him to come here, and visit with us."

"Really?" Charlie said, perking up. "You did that, already?"

"This morning. I sent a telegram."

"That's good, then. We'll talk to Mr. Beets," Charlie said, with satisfaction.

Scott knew he had to rein her in. "I'm not saying that you can't talk to Mr. Beets about how you feel. Of course you can do that. But

the rest of it, that's for adults to decide. Mr. Beets, and any others involved in your trust fund. And Katherine."

"And you, too," Charlie said, with certainty.

"No, Charlie. Not me."

"You don't have any say in it?" Charlie asked, looking upset.

"Not much, I'm afraid," Scott said, with regret.

From the hallway then, came the sound of two rising voices. Those of Teresa and Johnny.

L


	41. Sister and brother

As the two voices rose in the hallway, Scott said, "What in the world?" in an inquiring sort of way.

He sensed the way that Charlie sat up very straight suddenly, folding her hands in her lap. He gave her a glance, and saw that

she looked slightly concerned. Uncomfortable.

"What's the matter?" he asked her, and Charlie met his eyes, but before she could answer, the voices continued,

getting louder. Johnny was heard to be saying, "Where do you get the idea you need to do any of that stuff?"

"Stop hollering," Teresa said, in reply.

"You have no business messin' into any of that," Johnny said.

"I was simply asking a few questions," Teresa went on.

Scott stood up, going to pull the half-open door open the remainder of the way, and stepping out in the hallway.

"What are the two of you going at it about?" Scott asked.

"Go on, Teresa," Johnny said, as if in challenge. "Tell Scott what you've been up to."

When Scott turned to Teresa in question, she said, "I haven't been up to anything. I was only asking some questions in

town. Johnny's taking it completely out of context."

"You could get yourself into trouble," Johnny contradicted her. "And askin' those sorts of questions is not your job, Teresa."

"Oh, pooh," Teresa said, with a wave of her hand.

Charlie, though nervous, felt drawn as if a moth to a flame, and stood up, coming over to stand behind Scott.

"It's not your job," Johnny repeated, insistently.

"Whose job is it then?" Teresa asked, with spirit. "Yours?"

"That's right," Johnny said.

"You're just being silly," Teresa said.

"What questions were you asking, exactly?" Scott asked mildly.

"I was asking the name and occupation of the mysterious stranger in town," Teresa said, turning towards Scott.

"You don't know who or what he is," Johnny went on, at the same moment that Scott said, "What?" as in disbelief.

"Oh, Scott," Teresa said, looking at Scott's face that was lined in disapproval. "Not you, too."  
"It's not the most sensible thing you've ever done," Scott said.

"I was in no danger," Teresa said, breezily.

"You don't have any idea about danger," Johnny said, raising his voice again. "You acted like a dither-brained female today. I thought

you had more sense."

Teresa's color rose high in her cheeks. "Johnny Lancer-you-well, I don't even want to talk to you any longer! I won't discuss

it, that's all! You just-" Teresa paused, searching for a scathing few more words. "Oooo!" she said, and sweeping her

skirts up in her hand, she whirled away, heading towards the stairs.

"We're not done talkin' about this!" Johnny called after her.

"That's what you think!" Teresa called back.

"We'll see what Murdoch has to say about it!" Johnny threatened.

Being left alone with both Johnny and Scott, and no Teresa, and the mention of Murdoch being told, made Charlie feel all

nervous, and funny inside.

When both men looked towards and down at her Charlie bit at her lip, considering.

"Teresa was just trying to be nice," Charlie defended. "And make me feel better."

"Uh huh," Scott said dryly.

"She really didn't do anything dangerous or anything like that, Johnny," Charlie went on. "She just went to the millirenny store to ask."

"Millirenny store?" Scott asked.

"Yes. You know. The ladies hat store," Charlie supplied.

Scott looked amused. "The millinery," he corrected.

"Oh," Charlie said, and then stood there, looking at the two of them.

"It's been a long day," she said then, with a little sigh. "I think I'll go to bed after supper."

"Good idea," Scott said, still feeling a trifle amused.

L

Supper was quieter than normal. Charlie stayed mostly quiet, eying the simmering Johnny and offended Teresa in between bites.

Only Murdoch and Scott conversed. Until, when the meal was nearly over, and Teresa was still seated, but reaching for some empty

platters.

"So what's this fella's claim to a name?" Johnny asked, leaning back in his chair a bit.

Teresa, obviously surprised, eyed him, the platter in her hand.

"I am not going to continue arguing with you," she said, sounding prim and indignant.

"I'm not arguin'. I'm asking the man's name."

"Why? So you can accuse me of being stupid again?" Teresa said, her cheeks high with color.

"I never said you were stupid," Johnny denied. "Talk about takin' something out of context, or whatever you call it-"

"Alright, you two," Murdoch intervened, setting his cup down with purpose and looking irritated. "Let's not start up with all

that again."

Johnny eyed Teresa from across the table, and his blue eyes softened. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelins'," he said.

Teresa gave him an answering glance, considering "Well-" she said haltingly.

"Come on, hermanita," Johnny said, coaxingly.

"Alright," Teresa said, sitting back in her chair as well. "I'm sorry, too, for yelling at you like I did."

To say that Charlie was fascinated, intrigued even, by the back and forth between Johnny and Teresa would be

absolutely correct. So this was how it was to be a in family, she thought. Things between a brother and sister, or members

that considered themselves as such, could be choppy and strife in one moment, and then forgiven in the next, affection restored.

"His name is John Taylor," Teresa offered then. "At least that's what they say. And he's a salesman, though no one in town seems

to think he's a very good one."

"Salesman, huh?" Johnny said, looking thoughtful.

"Mostly he seems to spend his time in the saloon," Teresa added.

"Teresa, you did not-" Murdoch began, his eyebrows raised in what Charlie felt was an alarming way.

"No, Murdoch," Teresa said hastily. "Of course not. I wouldn't go in there."

After that, pie was served for dessert, but Charlie was so tired that she was resting her elbow on the table, leaning her

cheek into her hand.

When she was told to go on up to prepare for bed, she nodded, and got to her feet, scooting in her chair. She made her way around

the table, giving good night hugs to everyone seated.

When she'd gone upstairs, Scott shared with the family about extending an invitation to Mr. Beets to come visit at Lancer, and

how Katherine had agreed only to a week for Charlie to stay this time.

"She plans to send Charlie to boarding school," Scott added. "She's saying to Denver."

"That woman!" Teresa expostulated, standing up and beginning to gather the dishes. "I can think of a few things I'd like to say

to her if I got the chance again."

"I haven't told Charlie that part, about only staying for a week," Scott cautioned. "I thought I'd see what Beets says first, see if he

agrees to come visit and all, before I tell Charlie about the week."

"Holding out hope, son?" Murdoch asked him, looking pensive.

"I guess I am," Scott admitted.

"I have to say I'm holding onto hope for a good word from Mr. Beets, the banker, myself," Murdoch said.

L

By the time Scott climbed the stairs with 'Alice in Wonderland' tucked under his arm, and stepped thru her half-open door, he found

Charlie, already asleep on her bed. She was lying on top of her quilt, her bare feet tucked up underneath her legs. Scott lifted her

feet gently, and Charlie didn't even stir, as he covered her with the quilt, and smoothed her hair back from her face.

L

Scott was hopeful the next day, that a return telegram would be sent from Mr. Beets, and brought out from town, but by mid-afternoon,

there hadn't been. He knew it was unrealistic, but he couldn't help the feeling of let-down he felt.

When he saw his brother saddling his horse, he called out to him, from where he stood near the front door.

"Where you going?" he called.

"Town," Johnny called back.

Scott walked across to where Johnny was. "While you're in town, would you mind checking to see if there's a telegram from

Mr. Beets?" he asked.

"Sure, I can do that," Johnny said, checking the cinch, and then lowering the stirrup.

"What do you have to do in town?" Scott asked.

"Just goin' to poke around a little bit," Johnny said.

"You mean about Taylor, the salesman?" Scott asked.

"Yep."

"I think you're wasting your time," Scott cautioned.

"Maybe so," Johnny said, and then mounted his horse, looking down at Scott. "But I'll feel more at ease about the whole thing

if I at least try to talk to this fella."

"Alright." Scott ran his hand over the horse's neck. "Be careful."

"I always am," Johnny said, with a grin.

L

When Johnny returned home a couple of hours later, he handed off a telegram to Scott, pulled from his shirt pocket.

"There's your telegram," he said.

"Thanks," Scott said, taking it from him. "How did the investigation go? Find out anything?"

Johnny gave a look around, as if checking for overhearing ears. "Where is everybody?" he asked.

"In the house. Around somewhere. I think Charlie's playing with the kittens in the barn. Why?"

"Just don't want anybody to overhear," Johnny said mysteriously.

"So, what then?" Scott asked. "There's actually something about this Taylor, that we should know?"

They both turned at the same time, at the sound of running footsteps.

Charlie came up beside them both, carrying a furry gray kitten. "Hi, Johnny!" she greeted him. "Can we go

riding? Scott's been too busy, and he said I had to wait for you-"

Scott opened his mouth, intent on telling Charlie she shouldn't interrupt in that way, but Johnny shook his head

slightly at his brother. "It can wait until later," he told Scott. And, turning to Charlie, he laid a hand on top of her head and said,

"Yeah, pequeno, we can go ridin'."

"Yea!" Charlie said joyfully. She saw the paper in Scott's hand. "Is that a telegram?"

At Scott's nod, she asked, "Is it from Mr. Beets? Is he going to come and visit?"

Scott exchanged a look with Johnny, and then said, "Well, let's see," and unfolded the paper. He read quickly,

and then put the telegram in his pocket, saying, "He says he'll come at the end of the week to visit."

"That's good!" Charlie said. "I can show him my horse, and the kittens, and-" she hesitated. "And all sorts of things!" She

reached for Scott's hand. "Right?"

"Right," Scott said, in agreement.

"You'd best put the kitten up, and catch your horse, if you're wantin' to go for a ride," Johnny told her.

"Okay!" Charlie smiled up at Scott. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Scott nodded, running a hand over her hair, and Charlie scampered off towards the barn.

"What else is in the telegram?" Johnny asked, and Scott turned to look at him in surprise.

"I didn't say there was anything else," he said.

"I know you didn't. You didn't have to," Johnny told him.

Scott sighed a little. "You know me well," he said.

"I do."

"I guess I shouldn't play cards with you anymore," Scott went on. "If you can read my face that well."

Johnny waited, quiet.

"Beets is coming on Thursday. Then, when he leaves here, he'll be taking Charlie back to Stockton with him," Scott said.

L


	42. Visit pending

That night at supper, Charlie was full of cheerful chatter, all about the impending visit from Mr. Beets, and how she

was going to show him this, and that.

Finally, Scott, reminded of the painful knowledge of her having to leave with Beets, to return to Stockton, found the chatter to

be simply too much.

"Charlie," he said. "Finish your supper."

"Yes," Charlie said, in compliance, but then a few minutes later, she was chattering again.

"I know Mr. Beets likes cats," Charlie continued on. "He told me so one time, when I was at his office. So I know he'll want to

hold one of Calico's kittens-"

"Charlie!" Scott spoke sharply, and Charlie's voice trailed off, and she looked at him in surprise, her eyes wide.

Scott regretted his sharp tone, and said, more evenly, but with enough firmness to make it stick, "No more talking until

you've finished eating."

Charlie nodded, her feelings obviously hurt. She finished her food, keeping her eyes on her plate, and not saying another

word. Teresa tossed Scott a scathing look, and stood up, gathering dishes, and taking Scott's plate practically from under his

nose, in retribution.

"Come on, Charlie," Teresa said, and Charlie stood up obediently, going around the table and gathering dishes. She paused by

Murdoch's chair, and he laid his fork and knife across his plate, and handed it to Charlie.

"Thank you, darling," he said.

"You're welcome," Charlie said, with a small smile, and followed Teresa from the room.

While Murdoch merely leaned back in his chair, and surveyed Scott with a steady gaze, Johnny set his cup down with

force, and said, "No need to be so harsh with the kid."

Scott opened his mouth to explain himself, but then closed it again. He sighed. "You're right," he said.

Johnny studied his brother, surprised by the quick admission. "She's just wantin' to show Lawyer Beets the things she

likes so much."

"I know." Scott sighed again.

Awhile later, when the family gathered, as usual, in Murdoch's study, to finish the day, Teresa offered to take Charlie

upstairs and wash her hair for her.

"It's hard to get it all rinsed out, isn't it?" she asked Charlie.

"Sometimes," Charlie agreed.

"Well, come along," Teresa said, in a breezy tone. "I'll wash and rinse it, and brush it all out." Teresa went to give

Murdoch a hug goodnight, and Charlie did the same.

"Sleep well, my girls," Murdoch said.

When Teresa and Charlie had gone, Johnny gave a low whistle.

"Teresa's chilly," he observed. "Glad I'm not on the end of it this time."

"I guess I'm in the doghouse, alright," Scott commented. He looked towards his father. "When do you think Charlie should be

told? That she has to leave with Beets?"

Murdoch looked pensive. "I don't know, son. I'd say soon. Yet I don't know if that's best or not. I'm sorry, Scott, I don't seem

to have the right advice to give."

"It's alright. I understand, believe me," Scott said. He finished his drink, and set the glass on the table. "I think I'll go

out for a walk. Try and clear my head."

Murdoch nodded, and Johnny's eyes followed his brother out of the room. Those blue eyes were filled with

sympathy.

L

When Scott came back from his walk under the stars, he was surprised to see that nearly an hour had gone by. Thinking that

Charlie might already be asleep by now, he nevertheless took the book they were reading together, and went up the stairs.

The door to Charlie's bedroom was half-ajar, and she was curled up on the window seat, the lamp lit low, looking out the window.

"I thought you might be asleep," Scott said.

Charlie had turned when she heard him walk into the room, and now she sat up a little straighter, and shook her head. "No."

Scott went to sit beside her on the window seat. "Did you get your hair all brushed out?" he asked then.

At Charlie's nod, Scott reached out and touched a lock of the auburn curls. "Almost dry," he said, and gave her a tentative smile.

Charlie nodded again, her return smile hesitant, and small.

"You know what?" Scott said, still holding the strand of her hair in his fingers.

Charlie looked at him expectantly.

"Sometimes adults get all mixed up, too. And that can make them show an unfavorable side," Scott said.

Charlie regarded him seriously, looking a bit puzzled at his words.

"I shouldn't have been so harsh with you at supper," Scott went on. "It was wrong of me."

Charlie's eyes widened in surprise at his admission.

"It's alright," she said, her eyes searching his face. "Sometimes I talk too much."

Feeling even worse at her comment, Scott shook his head a bit, and settled back, pulling her over against his side.

"No, Charlie," he said. "Do you know," he began, "how I feel when I hear you talk about the ranch that way? Or the cats? Or when I

hear how you feel when you're riding your horse? Your words are a joy. They fill my heart."

Charlie turned her head, looking up at him. That she was still puzzled was evident.

"I was worrying about something else, when I spoke to you like I did," Scott explained.

"Oh," Charlie said.

After a moment or so, Charlie regarded Scott with a worried expression on her face. "What are you worrying about?" she asked.

Scott briefly, very briefly, considered telling Charlie about her departure with Beets on Thursday. Still, it was early on. No sense in

ruining what was left of her visit.

"It's something that will happen, regardless of any thought that I give it," Scott said. In a lighter tone, he said, "Don't worry about

it."

"But I do. I worry about you, Scott," Charlie said, in earnest. "If you're troubled about something, then I want to help you."

Scott felt his heart muscles constrict in emotion. Still, he tried to maintain his lighter tone. "You know what?" he asked. "You are

growing into a very mindful, solicitous young lady."

"Solicitous?" Charlie asked. "Is that good?"

"It's very good," Scott said, and kissed the top of her head, still damp from its shampooing. "Do you want to read some of

Alice's adventures?" he asked, tapping the book.

"Yes. We stopped at the part where she grows to giant size," Charlie reminded him.

L

After a leisurely breakfast the next morning, during which Charlie asked if she could go riding, the adults were enjoying

a second cup of Maria's strong coffee.

"Help Maria with the dishes, or anything else she wants you to do," Johnny told her. "Then you can go and saddle your

horse. I'll be out there directly."

"Alright!" Charlie said, standing up and pushing in her chair. She gathered up a stack of plates and went off toward the

kitchen.

"Do you think Mr. Beets might spend the night?" Teresa was asking. "I can clear out the sewing from the extra room, and put

clean sheets on the bed in there."

"I don't think he'll stay," Scott said.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to do it, just in case," Murdoch said.

"Alright. I'll do it today," Teresa said.

"Thank you, darling," Murdoch said.

Scott caught at Teresa's hand as she passed by his chair. She stopped, and looked at him for a long moment. An understanding

passed between them, and she gave him a small smile.

"What happened with this fellow in town?" Murdoch asked, finishing the coffee in his cup, and turning to Johnny in question. "The salesman?"

Johnny gave a quick look behind, to be certain that Charlie wasn't in listening range.

"He's no salesman at all," Johnny said, and immediately Teresa's interest was caught. She sat down again.

"I knew it!" she said.

"Well, leastways that's not his main ambition," Johnny added.

"What is?" Murdoch asked.

"He's in town inquiring about shares in the mine," Johnny said.

"The mine?" Scott asked.

"What does that have to do with Charlie?" Teresa said.

"We don't know that it has anything to do with her," Murdoch reminded Teresa. "Don't let your imagination run away with you."

"Word is, that he's inquiring for a wealthy widow," Johnny went on.

"A wealthy widow, huh?" Scott asked.

"More than a black widow," Teresa said darkly.

"The only wealth Katherine has, is what she gets thru Charlie," Scott said, almost to himself.

"Exactly," Johnny agreed.

"We don't know that any of this is factual," Murdoch cautioned. "And even if it is, we don't know that it's Katherine he's

working with. And besides, even if it is her, there's no law against a woman buying shares in a mine."

"She's buying it with Charlie's money, though!" Teresa said. "That's not right, Murdoch!"

"Of course it's not," Murdoch said, reaching out to pat Teresa's hand.

"So what are we going to do about it?" Teresa asked then, her eyes traveling over the three men.

"WE are not going to do anything about it," Scott said, emphasizing the word 'we'.

"You can't mean you're just going to sit back and let this pass!" Teresa expostulated. "Why, this is the very thing! This could prove to

that Mr. Beets that Katherine's not capable of being Charlie's guardian. That she's only looking to her own financial gain!"

"Whoa there, little sister," Johnny told her. "Nobody said anything about letting it pass."

"Well, what then?" Teresa asked impatiently.

"I thought I'd do a bit more inquiring," Johnny said. At Murdoch's glance, Johnny added, "After I finish a couple of projects this morning. I'll

go to town and ask around some more. Have a personal conversation with our mystery man."

"Check on the time of the stage arrival tomorrow," Murdoch told him. "So that Maria can be prepared with a meal."

"Alright. I will," Johnny agreed.

Scott, who'd gone quiet for most of the conversation, finished his coffee, and went to begin his day, pausing at the corral

gate, where Charlie was intent on saddling Gurth.

"Need any help?" he asked, as she lifted the saddle, staggering a bit under the weight of it.

"No," Charlie answered, a trifle breathless. "I can do it. I want to show Mr. Beets when he gets here, that I know how to saddle a horse

by myself."

Scott felt the force of the inevitable return. He made a sudden decision.

"How would you feel if it was me that went riding with you this morning?" he asked her. "Instead of Johnny?"

Charlie smiled in sudden gladness. "That would be good, Scott!" she said. Then she added, "I mean, I like it when Johnny goes with

me, but you and I haven't gone together for a long time."

"Alright. Let me tell Johnny, and I'll get my horse saddled," he told her.

Looking at Charlie's face, filled with the glow of happiness, at the prospect of a ride in the sunshine, and spending time with him, Scott

regretted that he was going to have to tell her something that would replace that look with one of sadness.

L


	43. Red rocks to the sky

Scott had asked Maria to pack some sandwiches, and so, armed with the sack of those as well as cookies, and a canteen of

water, he went back out to the corral to find his horse already saddled. Also finding Charlie out of breath, her hair coming loose from her braid.

"Well, how about that?" he said, giving her a smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. You might ought to check the cinch, though. I don't know if I got it tight enough," Charlie said, pushing her

hair back.

Scott handed her the sack to hold. "I had Maria pack us some food."

"Oh!" Charlie said, aiming a dimpled smile up at him. "We're going to have a picnic?"

"I thought we might," Scott said, and then gave the cinch a check over.

"You did just fine," he told Charlie, and she beamed at his praise.

They set out, across the pasture, and, at the first gate, Scott got down to open it, and Charlie rode thru. Scott

fastened the gate again, and mounted his own horse.

"Which way?" he asked Charlie.

"I get to choose?" she asked him, her eyes alight.

"You bet."

"Well," Charlie considered. "Could we ride up high? Where Johnny says you can see the rocks touch the sky? Do you know

the way?"

"I do. The rocks don't quite touch the sky, though, Charlie. It just seems that way."

"Oh, I knew it was just one of those-" Charlie hesitated, trying to think of the correct word. "Umbrellaments?" she offered.

At Scott's questioning glance, she added, "The word that means something is exaggerated?"

"Embellishments?" Scott asked.

"Yes. That's it. The story about the rocks touching the sky is just an embellishment. Right?"

"That's exactly right," Scott said.

They rode in silence at some points, their horses side by side. At other times, Charlie would ask questions about

a particular flower, or tree, and how long it took them to grow, and that sort of thing. Somehow they got onto the

subject of clouds, and the various sorts.

Scott gave a brief rundown of cumulus clouds versus stratus clouds.

"I never knew there were so many different kinds," Charlie said. She pointed at a fluffy one. "So what's that one?"

"That's a cumulus."

"They're the ones that are fluffy, and are seen most on sunny, bright days," Charlie recited, remembering what

he'd told her. "Right?"

"Right."

"I love being able to ride like this. And be in the out-of-doors. It's nothing like this in the city," Charlie said.

That brought Scott back to his purpose in bringing Charlie out alone this way, so as to talk to her about her imminent return

to Stockton. Still, he thought it best to have the talk when they'd stopped for the picnic.

When they'd reached the high rocks, in colors of burnished brown and metallic red, Charlie was wide-eyed, looking

around. Scott found a stopping point, and dismounted, tying the reins to a bush. Charlie followed suit, dismounting

and letting Gurth's reins drop to the ground.

"Tie him," Scott told her.

"Johnny says if they're trained to be ground-tied, that they won't go anywhere-" Charlie began.

"You tie him, just the same," Scott ordered. "This is no place to be chasing down a runaway horse."

Charlie obeyed, tying the reins to the same bush.

Scott took the knapsack which contained their food, and put the canteen strap over his shoulder. They began

to hike upwards, and at one point, Scott paused, making certain that Charlie was being successful in keeping up with

him.

Charlie caught up to him, brushing her hair from her face.

"Alright?" Scott asked her.

"Yes," Charlie said, with a breathless nod.

"Want to go on?"

Charlie nodded again. "Yes!"

Scott turned and they began to walk again. At one of the rockiest points, he held out a hand to help support her, and she grasped it.

Near the top of the rocks, Charlie seemed fascinated by the view. Exclaiming in excitement over how far of a distance she could

see.

"Come back a bit," Scott told her. "You're getting too close to the edge."

Charlie took some steps away from the edge, as Scott looked around, and then found a spot that was less rocky. He sat down,

leaning his back against a tall rock.

"If you sit over here, you can still see a far piece," Scott said. Charlie came over to sit beside him, gathering her knees

up to her chest, and looking outward with a sigh.

"It's so beautiful," she said, in a reverent voice.

"That it surely is," he agreed.

"Are there snakes up here?"

"Many. You always need to keep your eyes open," Scott said.

"Is that why you wore your gun?" Charlie asked then, looking at the gun in his gun belt. "So you could shoot a snake if you had to?"

"It's always best to be prepared."

"Will you teach me to shoot?" she asked.

Scott, knowing that she might possibly not be around for him to teach anything more to, including how to shoot a gun, felt

another prickling in his heart.

He handed the canteen to Charlie. "Take a drink. It was a long walk up here. I don't want you getting dehydrated."

Charlie took the canteen, and obediently took a swallow of water. She handed it back to him, wiping at her mouth, and

Scott took a drink as well, and then recapped it.

"Will you, Scott?" Charlie persisted.

Still being slow to answer, Scott fastened his glance on her face.

"I'd listen to you," Charlie promised. "And I'd do everything you said, so it would be safe and all. Would you teach me?"

"We'll see," Scott said.

"You don't think because I'm a girl, that I can't learn how, do you? You wouldn't think that, would you, Scott?" She seemed

almost worried about his response.

"You being a girl would have nothing to do with my agreeing, or not agreeing, to teach you to use a gun," Scott said, in reassurance.

"I knew that you wouldn't feel that way," Charlie said, smiling at him in satisfaction. "You're not like a lot of men."

Scott, reaching into the knapsack and retrieving a couple of cookies, handed one to Charlie.

"I'm not?" he asked, and gave her a half-smile. "Is that a good thing?"

"Very good," the little girl said, biting into the cookie with relish. "Lots of men think females aren't smart enough to do

things, like handle horses, or learn to shoot. They think girls shouldn't wear pants, or do outside things, or-" she hesitated,

waving her hand in an elaborate gesture, "Fire a gun. But you wouldn't treat a girl that way." She finished off her cookie, wiping

her hands on her overalls.

"Well, it's nice you have such confidence in my ability to be fair about things," Scott said, and Charlie smiled back at

him.

"When could we start?" she asked then. "Practicing with your gun, I mean?"

"We'll see," Scott said again, and Charlie looked at him, a trifle puzzled. But she didn't persist in her questioning.

Changing the subject, he asked, "Are you hungry? Wanting a sandwich?"

"I'm hungry," Charlie said, and Scott handed her the food sack.

Charlie took out the generous-sized package of sandwiches, packed with Maria's loving hands.

"Ham and cheese," she announced, "And turkey. With cherry tomatoes. Which do you want?"

"I'll take a turkey," he said, and Charlie handed him a sandwich.

They ate their lunch, though Scott didn't feel as though he had much appetite.

"There's something I needed to talk with you about," he said, and Charlie, munching on another cookie, looked

at him in expectation.

Scott hesitated, trying to usher in the correct words to say.

Charlie tilted her head at him. "Have I done something wrong?" she asked tremulously.

"No," Scott said, shaking his head. "Not at all. I'm just trying to gather my thoughts."

"Oh."

"Mr. Beets will be here tomorrow sometime, on the stage," Scott began, and Charlie nodded.

"When he leaves, he wants you to go with him," Scott continued.

Charlie looked puzzled at first, and then, frowning, she said, "Why? I can do my talking that I always have to do with him, while

he's here on his visit. I shouldn't need to go back to Stockton for that."

"Well, no, ordinarily you wouldn't," Scott agreed. "But this is different."

"Why?" she asked again.

"Your aunt wants to come home," Scott said.

Charlie's face showed a range of emotions. Then she said, with vehemence, "That's not my home! This is my home!"

Not wanting to get into a debate or deny Charlie's statement, Scott sighed. "Alright. Stockton, then. She wants you to come back

to Stockton."

"I'm supposed to stay for the rest of the summer!" Charlie said, laying what was left of her cookie aside, and sitting up very

straight, her hands clasped together.

"That was what we hoped," Scott said, and reminded her, "Your aunt never really gave her promise on that."

"Well, she didn't say that I couldn't! So, she shouldn't go back on the agreement!"

Scott was quiet for a long few moments, watching Charlie's cheeks flush with anger.

"She has the right, Charlie," he said quietly.

Charlie returned his look, her expression mutinous, and Scott waited, knowing that the tempest wasn't over as yet.

"Things that are wrong shouldn't be!" Charlie said.

"We have to obey the rules of the guardianship," Scott said, trying to sound calm.

"Well, when can I come back then?" she asked then.

Scott hesitated. "I'm not sure." The telegram hadn't said so in exact words, but 'reading between the lines', Scott had

the impression that Katherine planned to withdraw Charlie from the Lancer family grasp.

"Well, I'll tell Mr. Beets how I feel," Charlie said then, looking more hopeful. "And then he can talk to Katherine, and

we'll know when I'll be back again."

When Scott was silent, Charlie prompted, "Right?"

"You can certainly talk to him," Scott agreed. "I don't want you to get your hopes too high, though."

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked, looking frightened.

"I don't mean anything, exactly," Scott wavered. "You need to remember that school is going to be starting soon, within a

month or so."

Charlie lost what was left of her hopefulness. "Oh. That's right."

Struck by the dejected set of her shoulders, Scott tried to muster up a tone of cheerfulness in his own voice.

"Think about all the things you can show Mr. Beets when he arrives."

Charlie met his eyes, and nodded, still looking unhappy. "What if she wants me to go far away, to boarding school?" Charlie

asked, her big eyes wide.

Scott wished he had the power, the authority, to assure Charlie that attendance at a school far, far away, wouldn't take place.

But he knew to speak as though he had that authority, would be cruel, in the long run.

"We'll have to hope that doesn't happen," he said. "But, if it does, then we'll manage it."

"How?" she asked, worriedly. "Would you come and visit me?"

"I would," he said, with certainty.

"Even if it was real far?" Charlie persisted.

"Even then."

"I still don't want to," Charlie said.

"I know," Scott said.

"I'd be so lonely," Charlie said, and her eyes filled with tears.

Not having the words, Scott reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side

in a tight hug. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and, looking out at the staggeringly beautiful view before

them, he wondered why it suddenly didn't appear to be so beautiful, after all.

L


	44. Age of Majority

Back at the ranch house later that evening, Maria served supper outdoors, on the patio. There was a breeze, relieving a bit

of the oppressive heat.

Clouds dotted the sky. They were wispy, and grayish.

"Looks like rain might be comin' later," Johnny observed.

Charlie looked at the sky. "Those are Nimbus clouds, right, Scott?"

"I believe they are," Scott said.

Looking properly impressed, the rest of the family focused on Charlie.

"Smart girl," Johnny said, with a grin.

"Very impressive," Murdoch said, with a smile for the little girl.

"How did you learn that?" Teresa asked her.

"Scott explains things really well," Charlie said, simply, and set her empty milk glass on the table. "May I be excused?"

"Maria made chocolate cake," Teresa told her.

"I don't really feel like having cake right now," Charlie said, looking at Scott for permission. "Can I go see the kittens?"

"Yes," Scott answered. "Go on."

Charlie got up from the table, laying her napkin on her plate, and went off across the yard, towards the barn.

The adults at the table exchanged serious glances, and then Murdoch said, "She's very different this evening. Not her

usual self at all."

"Yeah," Johnny added. "She's really down in the mouth."

"I told her about her having to go back with Mr. Beets tomorrow," Scott said.

"Ah," Murdoch said, looking pensive. "That explains her mood."

"What did she say?" Teresa said.

"Not a whole lot, really," Scott said.

"She's a very unusual little girl," Teresa said. "She's so-self-contained."

"She's had to be," Johnny said.

After a few moments of heavy silence, Johnny's question was abrupt. "So that's it, then? She goes back to

that aunt of hers, and we do nothin' to stop it?"

"What do you suggest I do?" Scott countered, his tone sharp.

Another long moment of silence, as the two brothers looked at one another, and then

Johnny sighed. "I've got no suggestions. I know you've been worryin' and tryin' to figure something out."

Scott sighed as well. "I'm sorry," he said, in apology for his sharp tone. "I'm edgy, I guess."

"It's alright," Johnny said, softly.

After a few more minutes, Johnny got to his feet, saying, "Think I'll go and sit with Charlie and the cats for a bit."

After Johnny had gone, Scott excused himself, as well, and went for a long walk, not returning until the sun was lowering in the

sky.

L

After breakfast the next morning, Scott was surprised by Charlie's request to go to town with him to pick up Mr. Beets

when the stage arrived. He'd assumed that Charlie might not want to go, and thought she might want to put off seeing the banker

until she had to.

"Murdoch was going to go," Scott told her. He didn't add that his father had agreed to do so, so that Scott could prepare himself further

mentally for the upcoming visit.

"Alright," Charlie said, and promptly turned to Murdoch. "Can I go with you, Murdoch?"

"May I?" Scott corrected her automatically.

"May I, Murdoch?" Charlie amended.

"I would enjoy your company," Murdoch told her.

"Thank you," Charlie said politely. She looked toward Teresa. "After breakfast, will you fix my braid for me?"

"Of course I will," Teresa said.

Teresa finished her coffee, and the last few bites of her eggs, and said, "Ready?" to Charlie.

"Yes," Charlie said, and the two girls left the table.

"I wonder why the kid wants to go," Johnny wondered aloud. He looked thoughtful.

When Murdoch and Charlie set out later to go and meet the stage, Charlie was quiet. Murdoch

didn't attempt to draw her into conversation. Eventually, Charlie approached the subject

of Mr. Beets.

"Murdoch?" she began, sounding tentative.

"Hmm?"

"When can I have the money that my grandfather left?"

"Have control of it?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I would imagine at age twenty-one. That's the general rule, in things like this."

"Twenty-one?" Charlie said, sounding discouraged.

"I believe so. It's the age of majority."

At Charlie's puzzled look, Murdoch explained, "That's when you're considered an adult and able to make your own

decisions."

"Is there a way that I could get some of it before twenty-one?" she asked him then.

Murdoch gave a side glance at the little girl in the buggy seat beside him. "I don't think so."

"That's not right," Charlie said, sounding put out.

Instead of debating the rights and wrongs of the situation, Murdoch asked, "What would you do with the money, if you

were able to use some of it before you're of age?"

Without hesitation, Charlie replied, "I'd hire lawyers. More than one. Several of them. The best ones. And a Pinkerton

detective."

"Why a Pinkerton detective?" Murdoch asked.

"Because. Then it would come out about Katherine, and everyone would know."

"What would come out about her?"

"Anything that she does. Misuse of funds. Embezzlement." Charlie said.

Startled at her choice of words, Murdoch made no attempt to conceal his surprise. "Where did you hear those things?"

Charlie shrugged, and avoided his eye. "Just around."

"I know Scott wouldn't say any of that to you," Murdoch said, with certainty. "Did Teresa-"

"No!" Charlie said quickly, in defense of her proclaimed 'big sister'. "Teresa didn't say any of it."

"You need to be very careful saying those sort of things about a person, Charlie," Murdoch cautioned.

"Even if they're the truth?" the little girl asked, with spirit.

Caught somewhere between amusement, and the necessity to be firm, Murdoch decided that being a

grandparent was a tricky sort of a business.

"Even then," he said.

L

In town, Murdoch parked the buggy near the stage stop.

"We could go and have a piece of pie, at the Long Horn while we wait," Murdoch suggested.

"No, thank you," Charlie said. "Could I go and say hello to Mr. Val?"

"If you'd like to. Don't go far. The stage should be along soon."

"Alright," Charlie agreed.

Once down the sidewalk, and out of Murdoch's line of vision, Charlie crossed the street, and ducked into

the small building, with the sign above 'Anthony Coats, Attorney at Law'.

L

Once inside the dimly-lit office, Charlie shut the door, the bell jingling overhead. A thin man, who sat at a vast

desk covered with papers, looked up.

"Hello," he said, pleasantly.

"Hello."

"Can I help you with something?" he asked.

"Are you-" Charlie hesitated, trying to remember the sign outside. "Mr. Coats?"

"I am," the man said, getting to his feet. He was a youngish looking fellow, and his hair was mussed up, dark, and on the

longish side.

"My name is Charlotte Bays," Charlie said.

The young lawyer came around the side of the big desk. "Yes?" he asked, with a smile, waiting for her to say more.

"I'd like to hire you."

L


	45. Fast buggy ride

At first the young man, Mr. Anthony Coats, looked bemused. Puzzled. Then he recovered, and said kindly,

"I see. Come and sit down, won't you?" He motioned to a chair, and Charlie went to sit down, while he himself went

back around the desk to his own chair.

"I don't have much time," Charlie said, flustered. "Only until the stage comes."

"I see," the young man said again.

"I need to hire a lawyer. To overturn my guardianship," Charlie said, her words in a rush. "Right now, it's my aunt. She lives in

Stockton. But I want Scott to be my guardian instead."

"Scott?"

"Scott Lancer," Charlie supplied impatiently.

"I know Scott," Mr. Coats said. "Why is it that you want him to be your guardian?"

"Because he wants to be, and I want him to be. It's a long story, and I don't have a lot of time to tell you all of it. Have you

heard of the Conley mills? In Stockton?"

"Yes, I have-"

"That was my grandfather," Charlie interrupted him. "My aunt ended up as my guardian, but she has no claim to

all that my grandfather left."

Twisting to look out of the window, and still seeing no approaching stage, Charlie hurried on, "My aunt has only

ever wanted me for the money. I don't care about the money, but I do want to live with Scott. Will you take my case?"

"I'm afraid that I'm a bit confused. Charlotte, is it?"

"You can call me Charlie."

"Charlie. I'm not quite understanding-"

The sound of approaching horses, and calls of 'the stage is coming!' came from outside.

"I have to go," Charlie said. "Will you take my case?"

Anthony had been raised properly. He saw a little girl who was obviously distressed.

"I have a suggestion. How would it be if I come out to Lancer this evening, and we can discuss this at more length-" he began.

Charlie stood up. "No!" she said, alarmed. "I don't want anyone to know about this!"

The young lawyer looked even more perplexed. "Well-" he began.

"Isn't there such a thing as client-attorney privilege?" Charlie demanded. "Where things are between us only?"

"There is such a thing," Anthony agreed. "In typical cases-"

"I know this isn't a typical case, or anything," Charlie said hurriedly, giving another anxious glance out of the window at the

stage, now pulling to a stop.

"Will you help me?" she asked.

"I don't know if I'm the right fellow to help you, Charlie."

"Please, Mr. Coates! I can pay you!" Charlie said in desperation. "I'll give you fifty dollars! Would that be enough?"

As the lawyer hesitated, Charlie said, "I have to go now. And I have to go back to Stockton tomorrow. I'll write everything out that

you need to know, and I'll find some money to get started. Maybe not the whole fifty right now, but I'll send it to you when I get

back to Stockton. Before I leave on the stage in the morning, I'll find a way to bring the notes and part of the money over to you."

Looking as though he didn't know quite how to respond, Charlie took the opportunity of his confusion and hesitation, to

say, "Goodbye, I'll see you in the morning," and went quickly out of the door.

Coming out of the door as fast as she was, and at a near-run, Charlie ran into something hard.

She stumbled backward, as Val's hands steadied her.

"Whoa there, Just Charlotte," he said, smiling at her. "Where are you off to in such a dab-blamed hurry?"

"To find Murdoch, and meet the stagecoach," Charlie said, breathlessly.

"Ah," Val said. "The banker's coming for a visit, isn't he?"

"Yes. I have to go-" Charlie said, looking up at him.

"Did you have business with Mr. Coates?" Val asked her then.

"Umm," Charlie shaded her eyes from the sun with her hand. She wondered how she could answer, without actually either

lying or telling the whole truth.

Another look at Val's face, and Charlie knew she couldn't lie to him. He would know, anyway.

Instead, she tried to throw him off the track of his questioning. "I have to leave tomorrow," she said. "To go back to

Stockton with Mr. Beets."

"I'm sorry for that. Just as sorry as I can be," Val said, and Charlie, who'd only meant to distract him, now felt

sadness sweeping over her again. And Val was saddened, as well. She could tell.

"Yes," Charlie said, with a sigh.

"I'll walk with you," Val said. "And say hello to Murdoch."

When they reached the stage, most of the guests had already stepped down, and were milling about on the sidewalk,

visiting.

Murdoch was standing to the side, and when he saw Charlie, he drew his eyebrows together.

"Where did you disappear to?" he asked Charlie. "You've been visiting with Val all this time?"

"We just ran into each other a few moments ago," Val said, and Charlie felt Murdoch's gaze on her.

"I see," he said.

"Where's Mr. Beets?" Charlie asked.

"He wasn't on the stage," Murdoch said.

"That's odd," Val said.

"He must have been delayed," Murdoch said.

"There's not another stage today," Val supplied.

Charlie couldn't contain the feeling of elation that rose up. She was practically giddy. "I guess he's not coming," Charlie said.

Both Val and Murdoch gave her studied looks.

"We don't know that," Murdoch cautioned her.

"There might be a telegram from him," Val suggested. "Letting you know when he's coming, or if his plans

changed."

"Might be," Murdoch agreed.

"I'll run over to the telegraph office and see," Charlie offered.

"I think you can stay right beside me," Murdoch said. Charlie gave him a surprised glance, and then subsided.

"We'll go check on the telegram," Murdoch said, shaking Val's hand. "You should come to the ranch soon. Take a meal

with us."

"I'd appreciate that," Val said.

"Any time is fine," Murdoch said. "You just head out whenever you can."

They said their goodbyes, and Murdoch struck out in the direction of the telegraph office. Charlie had to

hustle to catch up to him. Inside the small office, Murdoch asked about a telegram, and sure enough, one had been

sent.

"I was just about to send somebody out to the ranch to deliver it," the older man who worked there told Murdoch. Charlie

couldn't remember his name.

"Well, thank you," Murdoch told him, and took the telegram, going back outside in the sunshine to read it.

"Mr. Beets has been delayed," Murdoch told Charlie, tucking the telegram into his shirt pocket.

"Until when?" Charlie asked, feeling hopeful.

Murdoch turned his attention back to Charlie, looking down at her from his impressive height.

"Later in the week, perhaps. He'll send word to us," Murdoch said.

Charlie nodded, unable to contain her smile. "That's good, isn't it?" she asked the older man.

"It's very good," Murdoch said, in agreement.

When he still stood there, surveying her in a questioning fashion, Charlie felt a prickle of unease.

"Have you been up to something that you shouldn't be?" he asked directly.

Charlie hesitated. "No, sir," she said.

"Are you certain about that?"

Charlie nibbled at her bottom lip, thinking. Going to see Mr. Coates wasn't something that was wrong, or that

would cause any trouble to any of the Lancers. She felt sure of that. She'd gone there without saying anything, that

was true, but it wasn't as though she wanted to keep it from them for a selfish reason.

"I'm certain," she said.

"Alright," Murdoch said, and then added, "We'd best be getting ourselves home. There's plenty of work to be done."

As they walked back towards the buggy, and then began the ride back to the ranch, Charlie observed Murdoch, trying not

to be obvious about doing so. He was such an unusual man. She'd never met anyone like him before.

He'd known she had done something in town, and not just gone to see Val. He'd asked her about it, and then, he'd

taken her at her word. She could tell he had no intention of bringing the subject up again.

Feeling a sudden, nearly overwhelming rush of affection for him, Charlie scooted over and put her hand thru the crook of

his elbow, resting her cheek on his arm.

"I do love you, Murdoch," Charlie said.

"I love you, too, child."

"You're so kind," Charlie said.

Murdoch gave a low chuckle. "It's nice you think so. There are people who would disagree with you, I'm sure."

"Did they do something to get on your wrong side?" Charlie asked, raising her face to look at him.

"Some. I've done my share of rubbing some folks the wrong way in my life."

Charlie considered that. She could see where Murdoch might be a formidable opponent. The thought of him

being angry at her at some point made Charlie feel strange inside. Quivery, in her stomach.

"What would make you ever be angry with me?" Charlie asked, deciding to file the information away.

"Why would you ask me such a question?" Murdoch asked.

At Charlie's shrug of response, he added, "Are you planning to do something that you think I won't approve of?"

There was a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"It's not that I'm planning on it," Charlie said, in total seriousness. "I'd just like to know."

"Well," Murdoch said, looking forward over the horse's back. "I suppose the main thing would be if you

were to lie to me."

"That's what Scott says, too. What else?" Charlie asked.

"Let's see," he said, looking thoughtful. "If you were to be disrespectful. Show poor behavior. I wouldn't

like to see you do that."

"I try not to have poor behavior," Charlie said, looking at him in such earnestness that Murdoch was

touched.

"I know you try," he said kindly. "You're a very sweet young girl."

"Anyway," Charlie said, in an abrupt change of subject, "I'm happy about Mr. Beets not coming. So that I don't have

to leave yet."

"I'm happy about it, as well," Murdoch said, and Charlie squeezed his arm.

L

Charlie finished driving the buggy the remainder of the way back to the ranch. Murdoch allowed her to

put some speed into the ride, encouraging the horse to canter. So it was that they pulled up to the barn with some

swiftness. Murdoch reached over to help pull the reins, to bring the horse to a stop.

Johnny, who'd been working on several of the horse's feet, clipping and cleaning their hooves, looked up,

and flashed a smile.

"Deciding to live dangerously, Murdoch?" he asked, coming over to rest a hand on the buggy wheel.

"She did just fine," Murdoch said, and climbed down.

"Where's our visitor?" Johnny asked.

"He's not coming!" Charlie said, in glee, standing up in the buggy.

Johnny reached up to swing her down. "Is that right?" he asked.

"His visit has been delayed," Murdoch amended.

"Isn't that the best news, Johnny?" Charlie asked then, tugging on Johnny's hand.

"Best news I've had in a good long while," Johnny agreed, smiling at the little girl.

"Where's Scott?" Charlie asked.

"Off workin' with Cip somewhere."

"Oh. I can't wait to tell him," Charlie said.

"You need to go and change your clothes," Murdoch reminded her. "And then begin on your chores."

"Yes. Alright," Charlie said, and skipped her way to the house.

L

Charlie reappeared within a few minutes, dressed in a pair of denim dungerees, and a brown blouse. She was

barefoot.

"Hi, Johnny!" she greeted him, as she passed by.

"Hi," Johnny said.

Charlie returned, cuddling a white kitten to her cheek.

She stood just a few steps from Johnny, as he held a horse's hoof between his knees, and cleaned out the hoof.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Nope."

"How come?" Charlie asked, looking crestfallen.

Johnny nodded towards her feet. "No shoes," he said. "Can't be around horses with no shoes on."

"If I put my shoes on, then can I help?" she asked next.

"Have you done your chores, like you're supposed to?"

Charlie hesitated. "Not yet."

Johnny raised his head to give her a telling look. "Then you'd best be gettin' to 'em, don't you think?"

"Yes," Charlie said, looking a bit embarrassed. She went to put the kitten away, and then Johnny saw her run past him, towards the house.

Thirty or so minutes later, Johnny had moved on to another horse, and Charlie reappeared, standing in the spot

she'd been in earlier.

"I'm wearing my boots," she said.

Johnny flicked a glance at her feet. "I see that," he said.

"I did my chores, too."

Johnny stood up, straightening his back, and stretching the muscles out. "That's good."

"Can I help you now?" she asked.

"Come here," he told her, and when Charlie was in front of him, he helped her to pick up the horse's foot, and

guided her as she began cleaning the mud from the inside of the hoof with the pick.

They worked their way thru that horse's other feet, and then, ready for another, Johnny asked, "Want to help with

this one, too?"

"I'll just watch this time," Charlie said.

"Okay."

Once Johnny had begun, Charlie found a bucket, and turned it over, sitting down and using it as a seat, watching him.

"It's hard work," she said. "How do you do it for such a long time?"

"It takes practice," Johnny said.

After a couple of quiet moments, Charlie spoke up. "Johnny, would you do me a favor?"

"If I'm able to, I likely would."

"Would you loan me some money?" she asked. "I'd pay you back. As soon as Mr. Beets comes. He'll give me

some."

"How much?" he asked then, still without looking up from his task.

Charlie thought a moment. Telling him fifty dollars would raise his suspicions, no doubt. If she got enough to give the lawyer

in town some, so that he'd know she was serious about hiring him, well, then when she went back to Stockton, she'd ask Mr.

Beets for some more, and mail the lawyer the rest.

"Ten dollars," she said, thinking that was a nice amount, but not too much.

Johnny raised his head. "Ten dollars?" he asked, sounding disbelieving. "Are you jokin'?"

Realizing her error, Charlie thought quickly. "Five dollars?" she suggested instead.

Returning to his task, Johnny asked, "What in heck do you need ten dollars for?"

"Five. I said five," Charlie reminded him.

Johnny moved to the next hoof. "What do you need five dollars for, then?"

"It's-" Charlie hesitated. "Sort of a surprise."

"A surprise, huh?"

"Sort of."

"Five dollars is a lot of money for a kid to ask for," Johnny said.

Considering, Charlie wondered what the young lawyer would say or do if she only brought him two dollars, or three.

Maybe he would laugh her right out of his office.

"It's important, Johnny," she said.

Johnny said no more, until he'd finished with the horse he was working with, and then he took the halter rope in hand, and then

a second horse.

"Grab the other one," he told Charlie, nodding his head in the direction of the third horse.

Charlie obeyed, following him as he opened the pasture gate, and took the halters off the two horses. Charlie did the same

with the third horse, and Johnny refastened the gate, walking towards the barn.

As they were hanging the halters on hooks, Johnny reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a handful of coins. He counted out five and

handed them to Charlie, without saying anything. Charlie took the coins from him, and looked at them for a moment, before

raising her face to meet his gaze.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome. It's not for gettin' up to any mischief, is it?"

"No, Johnny," Charlie promised. "I'll pay you back," she said again.

"I'm not worried 'bout it," Johnny said. He stretched, trying to work the stiff muscles in his back again. "I'm ready for

a cold drink."

As they were walking to the house, there were riders coming thru the pasture to the East.

"It's Scott," Charlie said, and ran to the corral gate, climbing up to wait. She sat on the top board, and as Scott

got within range, she waited as he dismounted, and opened the gate. Cip and the other two men rode thru, and Scott followed,

leading his horse.

"I'll take him," Cip told Scott, taking the reins to lead Scott's horse.

"Thanks," Scott said. When he'd refastened the gate, he looked up at Charlie.

"Hey, there," he greeted her.

"Hi, Scott!"

"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary," Scott told her.

"I have good news!"

"Do you? What's your good news?" Scott asked, as he came over to stand beside where she sat.

Charlie turned her legs so that she was facing the opposite way, and towards him.

"Mr. Beets didn't come!"

"He didn't? Why not?"

"He was delayed, or something." Charlie waved a hand in dismissal. "He sent a telegram. Murdoch has it."

"Oh."

"Are you glad?" she asked him.

"Yeah," Scott said, smiling at her. "I'm glad."

"Me, too!" Charlie hopped down from her perch on the fence. "Murdoch let me drive, and he let me trot the horse!"

"He's a brave, brave man," Scott said, and winked at Charlie.

7


	46. The best laid plans

At breakfast the next morning, Charlie heard Teresa talking about going into town. Charlie perked up after that, listening to the

continued conversation more carefully. She learned from it, that Teresa and Murdoch had planned a dinner party for the evening of the next day.

"I can go along with you and help carry things," Johnny offered. "If you can wait until a little later to go."

"Alright. Thank you," Teresa said.

"Will you check at the telegraph office while you're in town?" Scott asked. "See if there's one there?"

"From Beets?" Johnny asked.

At Scott's nod, Johnny added, "Sure thing."

Charlie finished her milk, and sat quietly until Teresa stood up, beginning to gather up dishes to clear the table. At that point, Charlie

stood up as well, and began to reach for dishes to help.

"Can I go with you?" she asked, looking to Teresa. "When you go to town?"

"It's alright with me," Teresa said. "Alright with you, Scott?"

"It's fine," Scott said. He turned his attention towards Charlie. "Get your chores done first."

"I will."

When it came time to head into town, Teresa told Charlie to go upstairs and change her clothes.

Charlie looked down at her denim dungerees, and shirt. "Why? These clothes aren't very dirty."

"Charlie. Just change," Teresa said.

So Charlie sighed, and went to change, coming back down in a simple dress, and with her hair rebraided. She took the five coins that

Johnny had given her, and tucked them into the pocket of her dress.

She ran downstairs, keeping her hand firmly over the pocket, so that the coins didn't spill out.

Once in the buggy, situated between Teresa and Johnny on the seat, the talk turned to the upcoming dinner party. Charlie only

listened with half an ear to all of that. The conversation consisted mainly of Teresa talking to Johnny about a girl named Hannah, and

how nice she was, and Johnny's response that he'd be polite, but not to expect more.

"You could at least spend a little time with her," Teresa went on.

"I said I'd be polite," Johnny reminded her.

"Which includes sitting beside her at the table, and talking to her," Teresa specified.

"We'll see," Johnny said.

"Just because she's not the sort of girl you'd find in Morro Coyo," Teresa accused.

"You just never mind about that," Johnny told her.

"What sort of girl is there in Morro Coyo?" Charlie asked, and Johnny gave Teresa an exasperated glance.

"See what you've done," he told her. He turned to look at Charlie. "We'll talk about it later," he told the little girl.

Once in town, Johnny parked the buggy in front of the general store. He went around to help Teresa out, as Charlie jumped to

the ground.

"I'm gonna go over to the telegraph office, and then I'll meet you inside the store," Johnny said.

"Alright," Teresa agreed. "Come on, Charlie."

"Can I go say hi to Mr. Val first?" Charlie asked.

"Val's not in town this mornin'," Johnny said. "He had somethin' he had to do."

"Oh," Charlie said, her excuse gone.

"Come on, Charlie," Teresa said again, as Johnny began his walk across the street toward the telegraph office.

Easier to get around Teresa than Johnny.

"Can I do something real quick?" Charlie asked Teresa.

"Do what?"

"Go say hi to somebody."

"Who? I didn't know you'd met any kids besides Lucy," Teresa said.

Charlie considered. She didn't want to lie to Teresa.

"It's sort of something that I need to do real quick," Charlie said. "I won't be but just a minute or so."

"Alright," Teresa said. "Don't be long."

"I won't," Charlie protested, and tore off down the sidewalk.

At the door of the lawyer office, Charlie opened the door and went inside, her hand still over the pocket of her dress. The office appeared to

be empty. No young Mr. Coats in sight.

Just to be certain that he wasn't in the back room, Charlie called out tentatively, "Mr. Coats?"

Only quiet was her answer.

Charlie bit her lip, considering. She wondered if he'd only stepped out, and would be right back.

She sat down in a chair, pulling the coins out to hold them in her hand. In the other hand, she held the notes she'd written down,

with information about her whole situation to give to the lawyer. She watched the clock on the wall. It ticked past five minutes. Then ten.

Charlie stood up, thinking that she couldn't wait any longer. Johnny would be back at the store by now, surely, and he and Teresa would

be wondering where she'd gone.

She went over to the desk, and laid the notes down, arranging the coins beside it. There was nothing else to be done, she thought. He

would find the things when he got back to the office.

Charlie went back out, closing the door behind her, and walking quickly back towards the store. When it was in sight, she saw

Johnny, standing in front of the store, looking up and down the street and sidewalk. No question that he was looking for her.

Charlie walked faster, nearly running. She saw Johnny turn to go back into the store, without seeing her. By the time

she reached the door, open to let the breeze in, she was breathless.

Going to where Johnny stood beside Teresa, ordering supplies, Johnny turned to look down at her.

"Where'd you take off to?" he asked.

"I had to run up the street a minute," Charlie answered.

"Yeah?" he asked, in question.

Charlie nodded at him, pushing her hair from her eyes. The braid had already come loose.

Johnny regarded her with steady eyes, looking as if he were puzzling over something.

Dreading the thought that he was going to ask her just where it had been that she had "run" to up the street, Charlie

bit at her lip.

"Hmm," he said. His look said more. But he didn't ask anything more. He just turned his attention back to the counter, and

when it was time to start carrying things out to the buggy, he told Charlie to grab things, as well.

Loading up the back of the buggy with all the supplies, Johnny scooted some things around, in order to make more

room.

"Is there anything you wanna tell me?" he asked, in a quiet sort of way, giving Charlie a side glance as he rearranged the

food and other supplies.

Charlie caught her breath, in a sudden intake of air. She met his blue eyes with her brown ones.

"No."

"Alright. Is there somethin' that you need to tell me, then?" he asked, stressing the word 'need'.

Charlie shook her head.

"If you've been up to somethin' you shouldn't, now's the time to be sayin' so," he told her.

"I haven't been up to anything bad," Charlie said, earnestly.

Johnny stood up straight, finished with his task. He put his hands on his hips, regarding the little girl out of

those blue eyes that seemed to see everything.

"Nothin' bad, huh?" he asked.

"No, Johnny."

"But you have been up to somethin', is that it?" he clarified.

Charlie hesitated, and then said, "Yes."

"I know you had your five dollars when we were drivin' into town," Johnny went on. "I heard the coins clinking together. And now I don't hear

it."

Charlie waited, astounded at his ability to 'know' things.

"So, wherever it was that you went a few minutes ago, that's what you needed the five dollars for. Is that right?" he asked.

"I'll pay you back, Johnny, I promise."

"That wasn't what I was askin' about. Was it?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

That eyebrow properly subdued, just as he intended it to do.

"No," Charlie said quietly.

"So how about you answer what I did ask, then."

"Yes, that's what I needed the five dollars for," Charlie said.

"You said the money was for a surprise," he reminded her.

As he waited, plainly wanting an answer, Charlie gave a sigh. "It's not like a present, or anything," she admitted. "I just-" she hesitated. "I just

needed the money."

Johnny stood there, regarding her so steadily that Charlie felt her resolve begin to waver.

"You know," he said, "I might be able to help you out with somethin', if you were to need help. I'm a good listener."

He looked so kind that Charlie felt she likely would have told him, right then and there. If Teresa hadn't come out the front door of

the store, that was. So Charlie subsided, as did Johnny, as he handed her a piece of licorice from a paper sack in the buggy seat.

Once back at the house, as they were unloading the buggy of the supplies, Johnny asked Charlie again.

"You sure you don't need to talk, pequeno?"

Charlie considered, and then said, "Not yet, I don't."

"Alright," Johnny said, and began to carry things inside.

L

The next day was the planned dinner party, so preparations began early. In mid-morning, a message was sent from town.

A telegraph had arrived, and at the lunchtime meal, Scott reported to the family that Mr. Beets was coming either that afternoon, or

the next one, depending on schedules. Immediately Charlie lost some of her luster.

"It seems as though he could decide upon a certain day at least," Teresa complained. "We've got this party to prepare for-"

She caught sight of Charlie's downcast face, and said, "I'm sorry, honey. I wasn't thinking of your feelings."

"It's alright," Charlie said quietly, and shortly after that, she excused herself, and went outside.

Around three o'clock that afternoon, Mr. Beets did, indeed, arrive. He hired a buggy from the livery and drove out.

Teresa, in the midst of the supper party preparations, greeted him at the front door, and made him comfortable in

Murdoch's library.

"I'm sorry, I'm not certain where Murdoch and Scott are at right at this time," she apologized.

"That's no problem," Mr. Beets assured her. "I'll be fine sitting here in this comfortable room until they return."

Teresa offered him a drink, and then went bustling off to get it from the kitchen.

Neither she, nor Mr. Beets, had seen Charlie, peeking around the corner of the hallway, listening to their conversation. Charlie had

seen Mr. Beets arrive, and ducked out of sight.

Once Teresa had gone, intent on getting that drink, Charlie observed him without being noticed. She was practicing her

speech, her words, in her head, of just what she wanted to say. She heard approaching steps, and ducked back under the cover of

the space under the stairs.

"Here's your tea," she heard Teresa saying, and then heard Mr. Beets replying, in thanks.

"I'll be back in just a few minutes," Teresa said, and bustled off again.

Once she'd gone again, Charlie came out of her hiding spot, and came into Murdoch's library. She came quietly. So quietly

that the banker was unaware of her presence until she spoke.

"Hullo, Mr. Beets."

The man, who'd been studying one of Murdoch's paintings hanging on the wall, turned in a startled fashion.

"Charlotte," he greeted her, with a smile. "You startled me. How are you?"

"I'm very well, thank you," Charlie said politely.

"I understand I've come to visit at a busy time. There's a supper get-together this evening?"

"Yes. Some neighbors and friends," Charlie said.

Charlie came over and stood directly in front of Mr. Beets.

"I'd like to talk to you, Mr. Beets," Charlie said, trying to sound utterly confident, and coming off as abrupt and a bit rude, instead.

"Alright," the older man said, and gestured towards the sofa. "Should we sit down?"

Charlie nodded, and they both took a seat on the settee, although Charlie sat near the edge, her hands folded together.

"Have you been having a nice visit?" he asked her.

"Yes. It's always nice when I'm here."

"I'm looking forward to meeting Murdoch after all this time. Teresa seems very nice-" he began.

"Teresa's very nice," Charlie interrupted. "I like her a lot."

Mr. Beets nodded, and waited.

"Scott says that I'm supposed to go back to Stockton with you, when you go. Is that right?"

"Yes. Your aunt would like you to return."

"Why?" Charlie asked bluntly.

For a long moment Mr. Beets seemed nonplussed. "Well, she'd like to talk with you about school. It will be time for that

soon."

"I don't think I should have to go to Denver if I don't want to," Charlie stated.

"Denver?" Mr. Beets asked, looking puzzled.

"The boarding school in Denver," Charlie said impatiently.

"I afraid I don't understand-" Mr. Beets began.

"She hasn't told you? Well, that's typical of her," Charlie said, agitated.

"What is this about a school in Denver?" he asked.

"That's where she wants to send me!" Charlie said in irritation.

"She hasn't spoken to me about anything of the sort."

For a moment Charlie hesitated, thinking. "Well, she does want to," she finally said.

"I see."

"I don't want to go that far away to school, Mr. Beets," Charlie said, sitting up very straight and trying to look grownup.

"I can certainly understand that," he said, and Charlie felt hope leap within.

"So, you'll tell her that, then?" she asked him. "That you agree I shouldn't go?"

"Well, now, Charlotte, let's slow down a bit. This is something we'd have to discuss with your aunt. Perhaps you misunderstood her-"

He was talking in that tone that Charlie, and nearly all other children, absolutely hated. It was the sort of tone that suggested

that they were overreacting, and letting their imaginations run away.

"I'm not blind, nor deaf," Charlie said in irritation. "And I'm not stupid, either! I know what I saw-pamphlets from a school

in Denver, and I know what Katherine told me!"

Never had Mr. Beets seen Charlie in such a state of emotion. Usually, during their brief, twice-monthly conversations, she

was calm and fairly quiet, answering the questions that he asked and offering nothing else.

"I know you're none of those things, my dear," Mr. Beets said. "I think you're a very intelligent young lady."

"Then give me a bit of credit here," Charlie rushed on. "You have no idea at all of the true way of things!"

"Alright," he said. "Suppose you tell me, then, the true way."

"Katherine tells you what you want to hear," Charlie said. "She's only interested in being my guardian for one reason, and that's

the money!"

"I'm sure that's not entirely true-" the banker began.

"You don't know anything about it!" Charlie said, raising her voice. "See, this is the problem! You need to listen to me! I only have

a little bit of time here, and I need to talk to you now!"

Mr. Beets surveyed the overwrought little girl that was sitting beside him.

"Alright. I'll listen," he said.

Charlie took a deep breath. "If you told Katherine that the monthly money was being cut back, or had to be stopped, or whatever,

you'd see that she only keeps me because of it! She tells you all sorts of things about me, I know that she does! She wants to put herself

in a good light, so you and the other board members at the bank will think she's some benevolent sort of person! And she's not, Mr. Beets,

she's not that way at all!"

She gathered her breath and rushed on. "I want to stay here, Mr. Beets. With Scott, and the rest of the family. They really want me here. And

Scott said he wouldn't accept any money at all for me being here. That it could all stay in the trust fund."

"I know you care about the Lancers," Mr. Beets said, "And I know that they certainly care about you as well, deeply. Your aunt, however,

is your legal guardian-"

"I don't care about that!" Charlie burst out. "That's all everyone says. It's repeated over and over. I know she is-I want her not to be!"

"Why have you never expressed any of this during our monthly conversations?" he asked.

"Because I hadn't met Scott!" Charlie said. "I just went along with things with Katherine, because that's the only place I had to go! But,

it's different now! They care about me here!"

Mr. Beets looked stricken.

Before he could speak, Charlie asked, in a challenging manner, "Is the money mine? Or is it Katherine's?"

"It's yours, certainly," Mr. Beets said, quietly.

"Then I want to do something with it-" Charlie waved her hands. "Give Katherine some money every month or something, even though I'd

be here, at the ranch, with Scott. That way, she'll go along with changing the guardianship."

"That's not the way things are done, I'm afraid," he said, sounding sincerely regretful.

"Because you don't want to help!" Charlie said, standing up. Her cheeks were bright with temper.

"I do want to help, child," Mr. Beets said.

"I don't believe you," Charlie said, her voice gone very, very quiet. And she turned, running towards the door of the room, so

quickly that she nearly upset the tray that Teresa was carrying, as she had begun to enter the room.

"For heaven's sake, what are you doing, Charlie?" Teresa demanded. "You shouldn't be running like that in the house. Can you take

this piece of cake into Mr. Beets?"

"I won't," Charlie said, fiercely.

"What's wrong?" Teresa asked her, reaching out with the hand not holding the tray, and holding onto Charlie's wrist.

Charlie jerked her arm away, so strongly that Teresa nearly dropped the tray. And then Charlie tore off, running up the

stairs at a frenzied pace.

L


	47. Ears all around

Charlie heard Teresa calling her, as she ran towards the stairs, but she didn't stop. She raced up the stairs and to her bedroom, going in

and shutting the door behind her. She eyed the door, and then did something she'd never done before, and turned the key in the lock.

It was only just a few minutes later, that a knock came upon the door.

"Charlie, it's me," Teresa spoke from outside the door.

Charlie sat, curled up on the window seat, and didn't answer.

Teresa knocked again, and then tried to turn the doorknob. Finding the door locked, she said, in a voice that was

frustrated, yet not overly loud, "Why are you locking the door? Let me come in."

With no answer from Charlie, Teresa tapped on the door again, and said in a agitated near-whisper, "Charlie! Come on!"

Charlie knew Teresa was using the semi-loud 'whisper' so that she wouldn't be overheard by Mr. Beets from downstairs.

Then Teresa's tone changed. She sounded mad. "I don't have time for this, Charlie. We've got guests coming in two hours, and

Mr. Beets is here-now open this door!"

"Leave me be, Teresa," Charlie said, loud enough for Teresa to hear.

"Alright, I will. We'll see what Scott has to say about this," Teresa threatened, and then Charlie heard her walking back

down the hallway.

Charlie felt a bit of misgiving at the mention of Scott. He wouldn't be pleased. Probably Mr. Beets would tell him that she'd been

rude and disrespectful. And then Teresa would report that she'd run upstairs, refusing to help.

Feeling utterly and completely sorry for herself, Charlie got up and went to drag her valise, which Teresa had given her, out of the

small closet. She began to pull clothes out of the dresser drawers, not caring if some fell on the floor. She shoved the overalls and pants

into the valise, some of them hanging over the top. "Might as well pack," she said to herself. "Since I have to leave tonight."

"I'll just wear overalls, all the time, every single day," Charlie muttered aloud. "We'll see how Katherine likes that!"

Once done with that, Charlie went back to sit in the window seat again, tucking her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.

She saw Jelly from her window, walking his pig, which he'd named Clarice, from the barn to the outdoor pen that had been built for her. A bit later,

she saw Johnny riding up, with a few of the ranch hands. As he began to lift the saddle off his horse, he glanced up. The sun must

not have been in his eyes, because he was able to see Charlie sitting there, at the window, and he lifted his hand in a wave.

Somehow, that made Charlie feel even worse, seeing Johnny smile up at her and wave that way. Thinking how much she would

miss him.

She didn't see Murdoch or Scott arriving back at the house, but it wasn't possible to see all directions from the window view.

Thinking of Murdoch, Charlie felt another pang of emotion. How dear he was, and how special! Working herself up even further, Charlie

decided she would never get to draw and paint with Murdoch any more. That would be just like Katherine. To decide to keep her

from the Lancers.

Charlie decided then, at that very moment, that she would find some money, thinking that after all, it was really her money. And then

she'd run away from Katherine's house, as soon as she could. She couldn't come back here to the ranch, obviously. So she'd have to go

somewhere new. Where she didn't know anyone. The thought of that was so terrifying that Charlie squeezed her knees up tighter to

her chest, rocking back and forth a little.

The sun eventually began to lower in the sky, in vivid orange. Wrapped in her own misery, Charlie didn't hear the approaching of

any footsteps in the hall. There was a rap on the door, and Scott's voice, "Charlie?"

Then, instead of him pausing, and waiting for her to answer, Charlie heard him try the door.

"Charlie, open this door," Scott said, in a tone full of quiet authority. "Right now."

Charlie got up, and went across the room, turning the key in the lock, and then the doorknob.

Once the doorknob was turned, and the door was opened, Scott stood there in the doorway, his forehead furrowed with

lines. Charlie avoided his eye, and went back to curl up on her window seat, tucking her knees up yet again, her arms around them.

Scott closed the door quietly, and then came across the room, to stand in front of the window seat.

"What's all this about?" he asked.

"I just felt like being alone," Charlie said, looking away from him, and out the window.

"There's more to it than that," Scott said. "What happened with Mr. Beets?"

"I tried to talk to him. That's all."

When Scott was silent, Charlie twisted to look at him. "I guess he told you how disrespectful I was, didn't he?" Her voice trembled,

from emotion, and from temper.

"He said you were very upset," Scott responded.

Charlie wrinkled her forehead, surprised. Mr. Beets hadn't spoken out against her to Scott?

"Were you disrespectful?" Scott asked her, giving her an intent look.

Charlie swallowed a bit, and then nibbled at her bottom lip. She nodded in reply.

Scott sighed softly, and then sat down next to her on the window seat.

"Tell me about the conversation," he said.

"I told him I didn't want to go to Denver to school. He claimed he didn't know anything about it. And then he

says that I probably misunderstood or something!"

As Scott remained quiet, his eyes staying on her face, Charlie rushed on. "And then I told him that I want Katherine to

have money every month, so she'll let go of the guardianship. He claims that's not the way things work!" The last statement

was uttered in near disgust. "I told him I'm not deaf or blind, and that I'm not stupid!"

"I'm sure he knows that you're not stupid," Scott said.

"And now I have to go with him tonight," Charlie continued, her face pinched with emotion, and gesturing towards the overflowing

valise that was set on the bed.

"Mr. Beets is going to spend the night," Scott informed her.

Charlie looked at him, her expression a cross between hopeful and wary.

"He is? Why?" she asked.

"Because he got here so late this afternoon. And he did want you to show him around. Show him your horse. All of that," Scott said. "And,

since we have company coming tonight, he decided he would do all that tomorrow."

"Oh," Charlie said.

"So," Scott said, "Let's talk about being disrespectful."

Charlie looked at him tremulously.

"Mr. Beets is a guest here. Right?" he asked.

"Yes, Scott."

"And he didn't have to come and visit you here," Scott reminded her. "He could have just refused the invitation, and insisted

you go back to Stockton, couldn't he?"

Charlie nodded, looking more unsure.

"Remember how you felt about Val, when you first met him?" Scott asked her. "You didn't like him much. And you didn't feel

like he really wanted to help you?"

"Yes," Charlie agreed reluctantly.

"You don't feel like that now, though, about him, do you?"

Charlie shook her head.

"I think Mr. Beets is a good man," Scott said. "I believe that he'd like to help us, if he's able to."

Charlie felt her face grow warm, remembering how she'd raised her voice and spoken to the man.

"If you talked to him in a way that you shouldn't have, then you'll need to apologize," Scott told her.

When Charlie was still, only looking at him, Scott prompted her, "Charlie? Do you understand?"

"Yes, Scott."

"You can talk to him some more about all of this, how you feel about things," Scott went on. "But you need to

do it in the proper way. Respectfully. Politely. Alright?"

Charlie nodded in answer.

"Alright," he said. "You need to wash your face and hands, and change into a dress for supper." He patted her knee, and

prepared to stand up.

"Scott?"

"What?"

"I feel better now. Since you talked to me."

"Well, that's good," Scott said, and gave her knee another pat.

As he left the room, and Charlie prepared to change for the supper party, she felt hopeful again, and would have been surprised that

just a short time later, how upset once again, and outright naughty she would be.

When she went downstairs a bit later, freshly scrubbed and in the simple blue dress that was the one that she disliked

the least, Charlie went to the kitchen, where Maria put her to work.

Teresa, who came in to take a platter to the table, was wearing a blue dress, too. Her hair was swept up in a knot at her neck, and

Charlie thought she looked truly beautiful.

"I hope you're in a better mood," Teresa said, addressing Charlie. "Running off upstairs like you did earlier. I could have used

your help."

Charlie stopped taking the rolls from the cooking sheet, to stare at Teresa.

"I didn't tell Scott how you acted, just so you know," Teresa added, in a low tone.

"You told him I locked the door, though," Charlie said. "I could tell you did."

"You're lucky that's all that I told him," Teresa said.

Charlie muttered something under her breath. In a language other than English. And it wasn't Spanish, either. Teresa could tell that, because

Maria kept stirring the sauce on the stove, not appearing to be listening.

"What did you just say?" Teresa asked Charlie.

Charlie shrugged, and went back to her task of putting the rolls in a basket for the table.

"Was that French?" Teresa asked then.

"Maybe," Charlie said.

"Honestly, you are being such a menace today," Teresa said, sounding vastly irritated.

Charlie spoke again, with a French insult.

"Charlie, you stop that!" Teresa ordered, two spots of color in her cheeks.

"Stop what?" Charlie asked, innocently.

"I know you're saying something naughty, something that you shouldn't," Teresa said.

"Las chicas dejan de lucher," Maria said, tapping her spoon on the side of the pot she was stirring.

Not entirely certain just what it was that Maria had said, Charlie looked at her. For emphasis, Maria shook

her finger in admonishment, more in Charlie's direction than in Teresa's.

"I'm sorry, Maria," Teresa said, and picked up a tray with ham rollups, made with Maria's homemade tortillas. "Is this the platter

that goes in now?"

"Si," Maria answered.

Teresa swept from the room, without another word to Charlie, the platter in her hands. Maria set the spoon down, and came up

from behind Charlie, setting potatoes in front of her, and a small knife.

"Peel potatoes," Maria said, in English.

"Why am I doing all the work?" Charlie grumbled. "This is Teresa's party."

There was a tug on the end of Charlie's hair. A not-necessarily gentle tug, and Charlie looked up into Maria's

disapproving face, and realized she'd said too much.

"Sorry," Charlie said. There was no denying that Maria could be intimidating when she chose to be.

L

Later, when guests began arriving, Charlie, who'd been released from her duties in the kitchen, was standing beside Scott.

Scott introduced her to the neighbors and friends that she hadn't met. Standing there with Scott, and hearing him tell

people, "This is Charlie," as if she were important, and a part of the family.

When the guests, usually the women, would make a comment about how nice that was, Scott would add, "She's

become real important around here." And Charlie, hearing him say those things, felt her heart swell with feeling.

Mr. Beets heard, too. She knew he did, because he was staying so near that he had to have heard. And he smiled at

Charlie.

There, Charlie thought with satisfaction. That should show Mr. Beets just how Scott really felt.

L

Just when it seemed that the guests were all present, yet another rider rode up. It was the young man that

had come to visit Teresa a few times. Teresa waited as he shook hands with Murdoch, and with Scott, and then

she put her hand in the crook of the young man's elbow, and went off toward the dining room.

Then another buggy pulled up outside. Thru the open door, Charlie saw a young man get out, and come around to help

an older woman to the ground. When he turned and they began walking towards the front door, Charlie felt

stunned. It was Mr. Coats.

L

Johnny was coming up from behind, and he greeted the young lawyer, with a handshake.

As Scott introduced her to Mr. Coats, and the woman, who was his mother, Charlie waited for the man to

rat her out, and say that she'd come to his office.

Instead, he smiled, and shook Charlie's hand. "We've met. It's nice to see you, Charlie."

He said it in such a way that it didn't seem to cause any curiosity on Scott's part, or Murdoch's. Charlie made her

escape as soon as she could, going to help carry more food to the table, in a much more subdued fashion.

She waited for her opportunity, and after the meal had been eaten, she managed to be the one to bring the young

lawyer a fresh glass of iced tea outside, where he'd stepped for a breath of air.

"Thank you, Charlie," he said.

"I didn't know you were coming here tonight," Charlie said, and then realized that she sounded rude. Yet again.

"What I mean is, well, I didn't know," she added.

"My mother has been a friend of Murdoch's for a long time."

"Oh," Charlie said.

"I found your notes that you left. And the money," he said.

"That's good," Charlie said.

"I've brought your money back, to return to you," Mr. Coats said, and reaching into his vest pocket, he took out

five coins, and held them out to her.

"I don't understand. Why are you giving them back to me?" Charlie asked.

"I wouldn't feel right about taking it from you."

"Why not?" Charlie demanded. "Is it because I'm only eleven? Because I told you that I can pay you!"

"It's not about the money. And it's not because of your age. At least, that's not all of it."

"What is it, then?"

"It sounds as though it's a very complicated situation. And, to be honest, I'm just starting out. I'm trying to learn the

lawyering trade here, in a smaller town. Perhaps sometime I can take on some bigger cases, such as yours."

"What sort of a lawyer turns down an offer of a job?" Charlie demanded, feeling angry.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I just don't feel as though I'm the right lawyer for the case. I'd be glad to talk with you though, about it. Maybe that

would still help."

In fury, Charlie glared at him, and then said, with angry dignity, "I wouldn't want you to help me. Don't concern yourself with me any longer."

She turned to stomp back inside the house, and came into direct contact with Murdoch, who was accompanied by Mr. Coat's mother.

"Charlie?" Murdoch asked, plainly having heard at least a portion of the conversation. His eyebrows were draw together in such a

disapproving way that Charlie was startled into silence.

"What's happening here?" Murdoch asked, looking from Charlie to young Mr. Coats.

L

Charlie found herself incapable of speech. Murdoch looked downright peeved.

"We were having a discussion," the young lawyer spoke up, in such a way as to smooth things over. He stepped closer. "How

are you, Mother? Are you having a good time?"

"Yes. A lovely time," the older woman said.

"Good," Mr. Coats said.

"It seemed as though it was more of an argument that we overheard," Murdoch said. He fastened his gaze on Charlie. "And

it seemed as though Charlie was being exceedingly rude."

Charlie had never understood the phrase 'wishing the floor would swallow her up' before. She did, now.

"Young lady?" Murdoch questioned, giving Charlie another of those ferocious eyebrows-drawn looks.

Charlie tried to open her mouth to speak. She did try. Nothing seemed to come out.

"Honestly, Murdoch, it's fine," Mr. Coats spoke up. "Charlie and I were only talking."

Murdoch didn't look convinced. Nor did he look happy. But he did say, "Alright, then," and turned to Mrs. Coats.

"Would you like to sit out here for a bit, Doretha? There's a breeze, I believe."

"Yes, I would," the woman responded.

"James?" Murdoch said, addressing Mr. Coats. "Will you sit with us?"

"I will, thank you," Mr. Coats said, and sat down in one of the iron chairs around the outdoor table. As Murdoch seated Mrs.

Coats, he turned his gaze to Charlie once again. And, Charlie, who'd been standing there, as if frozen in the spot, felt a

quivering in her belly.

"Perhaps you should go and see if Teresa needs any help with anything," he said, in suggestion, although Charlie knew full

well that it wasn't a suggestion at all.

"Yes, Murdoch," she said, and made her escape, brushing past Mr. Beets, who was standing, once again, nearby. Near enough to

have heard at least a portion of what had transpired.

L


	48. Long enough

As told to, Charlie went in search of Teresa. Not really wanting to do that very thing. But Murdoch might ask Teresa later, and

Charlie didn't want anything else to happen to provoke one of those fearsome frowns.

Teresa was sitting in the library, with the young man that she was infatuated with, and several other friends near the same age.

Charlie waited, not sure how to interrupt.

"Teresa," she finally said, when none of them appeared to notice her standing there.

Teresa looked up. "What?" and came over to stand in front of Charlie.

"Did you need me to help with anything?"

Teresa looked properly surprised by the offer. "I don't think so. You might go and ask Maria. She might need some help."

"Okay," Charlie said, turning to trudge her way thru the crowded dining room, to the kitchen. The kitchen was warm, from the stove, and

Maria had opened the door to let some air inside. The whole room smelled of cinnamon.

"Do you need help?" she asked.

Maria turned from where she was stacking dishes. "Si. Los platos."

Charlie had picked up enough Spanish in her time at Lancer to know what platos were. She sighed and went to find a cloth to

dry the plates.

After she had begun to dry them, Maria came up from behind her, tying an oversized apron around Charlie's waist.

She smiled at Charlie, and Charlie sighed again. At least Maria wasn't angry with her any longer.

Once she'd finished one round of dishes, Maria excused her, and Charlie untied the apron, laying it on the table.

She thought, feeling morose, that she might as well go up to bed. She started up the stairs, passing thru the crowd of guests.

"Are you retiring for the evening?" she heard a voice inquire, and turned to see Mr. Beets.

"Yes," Charlie said, pausing on the bottom stair.

"I look forward to having you show me around the ranch tomorrow," he said, with a smile.

Charlie nodded. "It's beautiful here. You'll like it."

"The house is indeed beautiful. And everyone's been very kind," he said.

Reminded now, Charlie bit her lip, and ran her hand over the bannister. "They're all wonderful," she said, and felt

sort of choked up. Gathering her nerve, she said, "I apologize for earlier this afternoon. I was rude to you."

Mr. Beets regarded her with an expression that Charlie couldn't quite decipher. Still, when he spoke, his voice was

not unkind. "I believe that I do understand how you feel, Charlotte. Perhaps we can talk about it again tomorrow."

Charlie didn't feel all that hopeful at his words. Still, he was being kind. Scott had been right about that. Mr. Beets

didn't have to do what he was doing.

So she nodded, and said, "Thank you," quietly.

It seemed as though Mr. Beets was going to say something else, so Charlie waited. A few people crossed thru the room, and

when they'd gone, Mr. Beets said, "It seems that you've had quite a time of it. And I wasn't seeing that."

Now she did feel a glimmer of hope. She didn't want to say anything that might shatter his understanding, so she

kept still. She nodded. "Yes, sir," she said.

Murdoch came striding thru the room, a drink in his hand. "Did you get enough to eat?" he asked Mr. Beets. "There's

plenty of cake left."

"Oh, no, I've had more than enough," Mr. Beets responded. "It was a fine meal."

"Good," Murdoch said, and his gaze came to rest on Charlie. "Off to bed?" he asked her.

Charlie nodded, and Murdoch said, "I'll walk up with you. Excuse me, Mr. Beets."

"You don't have to," Charlie protested, looking up at the big man. "I know you're busy with all the company here-"

Without acknowledging her protest at all, Murdoch put a hand on the center of her back, turning Charlie to begin up the stairs.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Murdoch said to Mr. Beets.

"Of course," the banker said. "Goodnight, Charlotte."

"Goodnight," Charlie managed.

The staircase had never seemed so long before, or yet so short.

Once at the door of her bedroom, Charlie paused. Maybe if they didn't actually go into her bedroom, then the scolding she

knew she was going to get, well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it happened in the hallway.

But Murdoch only opened the door himself, ushering her inside, still with his hand in the center of her back. Then he closed it

behind them. He went to pull the chair out from under the desk, and sat down in it. Then, all his attention was focused

on Charlie.

"Come over here, child," he said, beckoning to her.

Charlie stood where she was for a moment. Literally, she felt her knees shaking. She crossed the room to where

he sat, and looked at him, biting her lip in nerves.

Murdoch pulled her, so that she stood directly in front of him.

"I want to know about your discussion that you were having with James," he said.

"You mean Mr. Coats?" Charlie asked uncertainly.

"Yes, Mr. Coats."

"He was giving me back some money that I paid him."

At her momentary hesitation, Murdoch prompted, "Money you paid him for what?"

"I asked him to be my lawyer. To overturn the guardianship. He said he can't do it. That it's too big, and too difficult of a case for him."

"I see," Murdoch said quietly.

Murdoch sighed, looking thoughtful, and Charlie waited, feeling as though she was waiting for the ax to drop.

"Wash your face, and brush your teeth," Murdoch said, unexpectedly. "Get into your nightclothes. I'll come back and tuck you in." And, with

that, he gave her a small push back, and stood up, picking up the chair to put it back underneath the desk.

He was gone so quickly, that Charlie was still feeling surprised. She washed, and got into her nightgown, and then

sat on the edge of her bed. A tap on the door only a few minutes later.

"Come in."

Murdoch reappeared, a glass of milk in his hand. He came over near to the bed, handing Charlie the glass.

As she began to sip at it, he went to lower the shade at the window.

"Will the party last much longer?" she asked.

"I imagine it will go on for some time yet," Murdoch said. "Will it keep you awake?"

"I don't think so. I'm very tired."

Murdoch looked at the little girl, sitting cross-legged on the bed, her braid coming undone, and her face looking weary.

"Yes. You look tired," he said, and came over to the bed. "Get under there now," he said, and Charlie scrambled

underneath the quilt. She took the last swallow of the milk, and Murdoch took the empty glass from her.

He tucked the covers up around her, and as he was doing that, Charlie said, sounding anxious,

"You're not going to scold me? For being rude?"

Murdoch hesitated, looking at her intently. "No. I'm not going to scold you. I do think you should apologize

to James when you see him next. Not for your feelings, but for the way you expressed them."

"Yes, sir," Charlie said.

"As far as trying to hire a lawyer, all on your own, well-" Murdoch's voice tapered off, and Charlie watched him, feeling

anxious again.

Instead of continuing with his statement, Murdoch paused, and then reached down to touch Charlie's cheek with his

big hand.

"Time to sleep," he said, and reached over to turn down the lamp.

Charlie pulled the quilt up to her chin. "Goodnight, Murdoch."

"Goodnight."

L

Tired as she was, it took Charlie a bit of time to fall asleep. She could hear the sounds of the guests downstairs. Talking and laughing.

But it wasn't really that that kept her awake. Her mind was so full of thoughts. She wondered how the next day would go with Mr. Beets.

She wanted to say and do just the right thing, so that he would see that it was best for her to stay here. She mustn't mess up with

being rude to him again.

And, Murdoch. He'd looked so ferocious, that Charlie had felt sure she was in for a lecture, at the very least. Yet, he hadn't

scolded her. Only told her she should apologize for the way she'd spoken, but not apologize for her feelings.

And, what would happen after tomorrow? When Mr. Beets had had his look around Lancer, and went back to Stockton? What if

she never got to come back here?

She had nearly drifted off into sleep, when she heard the sound of her bedroom door being opened, and a flicker of light from

the hall came in. Charlie squinted, trying to see in the brief light.

Sure that it was Scott, she said quietly, "I'm awake, Scott."

Scott came into the room, and over to stand beside the bed. "Is the noise keeping you awake?" he asked.

"No. I've just been thinking."

"Oh," he said. "Well, try to sleep now. Alright?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Good night," he said, and turned to go.

"Scott?"

He paused, turning back. Charlie could see only the barest bit of his profile from the hallway light.

"I feel scared inside," Charlie confessed.

"I know," Scott said, in answer, very quietly. And he walked back over to the bed, sitting down.

"What if she says I shouldn't come and visit here anymore? She's wanted me to, up to now, because it got me out

of her way. But now, she wants to send me so far away to school, that all that's going to change," Charlie said.

"Your visits here are not going to change," Scott said, his tone definite. "They are still going to happen."

"But, how? If I'm all the way in Denver?" Charlie persisted.

"I told you I'd come and visit you, didn't I?" he reminded her. "And so would the rest of the family. But, more likely, it

would be that one of us comes to fetch you, and you ride the train back here for a visit."

"I could do that?" she asked, sounding hopeful.

"No reason that you couldn't. Besides, the school in Denver, and you going there, well, that's not a definite thing," Scott went on.

"But Katherine said-" Charlie began.

"I know what she said," Scott said. "Whatever does happen, I want you to remember, that you're not going to be alone, or have to feel that

you're alone. Not anymore."

Charlie sat up, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was silent, only clutching him, her cheek pressed into

his shoulder.

"Lay back down, now," Scott said, patting her back.

Charlie leaned her face back a bit, but kept hold of him, still sitting up. "I apologized to Mr. Beets."

"Good."

Then in a flurry of words, Charlie told him about trying to hire the young lawyer in town, and how he'd turned her down, and

how Murdoch had heard her speaking to him.

"I know," Scott said quietly.

"Mr. Coats told you?" Charlie asked.

"Murdoch did."

"I thought Murdoch was angry with me-he looked so scary-but he wasn't, he was nice," Charlie talked on.

"You're getting all wound up, right before it's time to sleep," Scott said. "Lay down now."

Charlie obediently laid down, and Scott pulled the blankets up around her.

"Are you mad at me, Scott?" she asked, anxiously, searching his face, dimly lit in the light. "For trying to hire him?"

"No, Charlie. I'm not mad."

Charlie began to talk on, but Scott spoke softly. "Hush. No more talking tonight."

Charlie subsided, and laid quietly, still holding onto his hand. After a few quiet moments, Scott leaned down

and kissed her forehead. "Go to sleep now," he said.

"Will you leave the door open?" Charlie asked him. "Just a little? So I can hear the noise from downstairs?"

Scott crossed the room, and left the door ajar just slightly, with a slant of the hall light coming thru.

"There you go," he said.

"Thank you."

"Goodnight, Charlie."

"Goodnight, Scott."

L

Once back downstairs, Scott got a refill of his glass of bourbon. He talked with some of the guests, as the party

began to wind down, and some people began to depart.

Scott found James Coats, preparing to leave. Murdoch was standing there as well, helping Mrs. Coats with her coat.

As Murdoch assisted the older woman, Scott took the short opportunity to talk to the young lawyer.

He didn't even need to speak, though. Coats spoke first.

"You know, then?" he asked Scott. "About Charlie asking me to help her?"

"Yes. I know about it." Scott sighed a little.

"I'm afraid Charlie's mightily upset with me," James said, sounding regretful.

"She'll be alright. Thank you for being kind to her about it."

"She's an interesting child," James added. "I like her."

"We all do, too," Scott said.

Hearing something in Scott's tone, James asked, "There's nothing to be done, then? So that she can stay here?"

"Well, nothing definite, anyway," Scott said.

"Are you ready, James?" Mrs. Coats asked, walking up with Murdoch.

"Yes, Mother, I'm ready." James paused, and turned back to Scott. "I just don't feel that I could do what's necessary

to win this case, Scott."

"I understand. No need for you to feel badly about it."

As the buggy, with the young lawyer and his mother headed down the road, Scott and Murdoch exchanged a look.

"This has gone on long enough," Murdoch said.

"It has," Scott said, in agreement.

L


	49. Riding with Beets

Charlie was awakened the next morning by Teresa, bouncing gently on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Teresa said.

Charlie opened her eyes, and then stretched.

"Maria says to come down to breakfast. We were wondering if you were ever going to wake up," Teresa said.

Charlie sat up. "Is it late? Did I oversleep?" she asked, in worry.

"No, it's not late," the older girl said, and patted Charlie's leg. "But, it's time to get up. Come on!" Teresa stood up.

"Where's Mr. Beets?" Charlie asked, pushing her hair back from her face. "Has he already gone outside?"

"He's at the table, talking to everyone."

"Oh," Charlie said, relieved. "I'll get dressed quickly."

Teresa was at the door, when Charlie spoke up, pausing in front of the bureau. "Teresa?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry about yesterday. Saying things to you in French."

Teresa wrinkled her forehead. "It's alright. But, what were you saying anyway?"

"If I tell you, then you really will be angry with me," Charlie said.

In response, Teresa only laughed. "Well, it's probably best that I don't know then. Now hurry up and get

down to breakfast!"

She disappeared out the door, and Charlie turned back to her task of getting dressed.

L

Coming downstairs, just a few minutes later, dressed in her denim pants and boots, Charlie went to the dining

room, where the family was gathered, as well as Mr. Beets.

Charlie gave the banker a curious glance. She'd only seen him in his fine suits. Today, he was dressed in

clothes similar to what Murdoch wore, right down to his serviceable boots.

There was a round of good mornings at the table, and Charlie responded, "Good morning."

She slid into her customary seat at the table. Maria, carrying another platter heaped with eggs to the table, set a glassful of

milk before Charlie.

"Thank you," Charlie said, and the older woman smiled at her fondly, before taking her leave, to go back to the kitchen.

After that, Charlie listened to the conversation amongst the adults. The men had all finished, or nearly finished, their

meal, and were discussing cattle, and the price of those, and other ranch-related topics.

When Johnny got to his feet, preparing to head outside, Murdoch followed him, the two of them in

conversation.

Scott was finishing his coffee, and Mr. Beets turned his attention to Charlie.

"What do you plan to show me first, Charlotte?" he asked, with a smile.

Charlie, in the midst of chewing a mouthful of eggs, swallowed, and then said, "Would you like to see my horse?"

"I would. Very much. Perhaps we could take a ride together?" Mr. Beets asked.

"You ride?" Charlie asked, surprised.

"I do."

"Oh. Well," Charlie looked to Scott. "We can go riding then, can't we, Scott?"

"I think that sounds like a great idea," Scott agreed.

And so, as soon as she was finished eating, Charlie set out for the barn, gathering her halter, and going to

catch Gurth. She saw Mr. Beets, standing with Scott, at the gate entering the pasture, and led Gurth over to them.

"This is your horse?" Mr. Beets asked.

"Yes, sir. This is Gurth," Charlie said, pride evident in her tone.

"Well, he is a fine looking animal," Mr. Beets said, reaching over the fence to pet the horse.

"Which horse should I get for Mr. Beets?" Charlie asked, looking at Scott.

"You have a preference?" Scott asked the older man.

"No. I should be fine with whatever you choose," Mr. Beets replied.

Charlie inwardly wondered at that. She had her doubts about the city banker being able to ride one of the

more spirited horses at Lancer.

"I'll fetch one for you," Scott said, and went thru the gate, saying to Charlie, "You go on and get Gurth saddled."

As Charlie headed to get her saddle, the banker offered, "Would you like me to hold him?"

So Charlie passed off the reins to him, and went to gather her saddle.

As she toted the saddle over, Mr. Beets looked surprised.

"Do you need assistance?" he asked Charlie.

"No," Charlie said, and then added, "Thank you."

Mr. Beets stayed quiet as Charlie stepped up on the rock left there, and put the saddle blanket on first, and then

lifted the saddle onto Gurth's back.

When Charlie had finished tightening the cinch, she pushed her hair back, breathless.

"I'm amazed, Charlotte," Mr. Beets said. "Truly amazed. A little bit of a thing like you being able to do that

alone."

Charlie felt truly proud, though she didn't think of herself as 'a little bit of a thing'.

"Johnny says it's important to do things yourself that your horse needs," Charlie said.

"I see," Mr. Beets said.

"He's showed me how to take care of the horse's feet, too," Charlie shared.

"Has he?" Mr. Beets asked, looking impressed.

As Scott came leading a horse thru the pasture, and then saddled it, Charlie and Beets set out on their ride

together.

As they rode, the banker asked questions. Nothing too personal, just about the ranch itself, and the cattle.

Charlie pointed to a fenced pasture to the south. "That's where the bull is," she said. She pulled Gurth to a

halt. "There he is. You can see him from here," she said, pointing.

"He looks like a fine animal," Mr. Beets said.

"Murdoch says he's the finest bull in three counties," Charlie said.

"I'm not supposed to ride over there," Charlie went on. "Scott doesn't want me to get too awfully close to the bull."

"That seems like sound advice," he said, with a nod.

As they rode on, Charlie pointed out various landmarks, and things of interest.

"You've become very knowledgeable about some things, since your time here," Mr. Beets told her.

"I've learned a lot," Charlie agreed.

"About the care of horses?" he reminded her, with a smile.

"Yes. Did you know the center part of a horse's hoof is called the frog?" she asked him.

"No, I did not know that."

"It is," Charlie said. "That's what Johnny says. He says he doesn't know why, just that it is."

"You like spending time with Johnny, don't you?"

Charlie nodded.

"You enjoy your time with the others, as well?" he asked.

With that, Charlie launched into talking about Teresa. And Murdoch, and

the drawing that they did together.

"Murdoch is teaching me to drive a buggy," she said.

"That's just fine, isn't it?" Mr. Beets said.

"Yes. And, Scott," she said, and her voice tapered off a bit. "Well, Scott and I-we do lots of things

together."

"Tell me about it," the older man said gently.

"He takes me places, like up in the mountains. And he's teaching me about the flowers and the plants, and

all of their names and things. And about all the different sorts of clouds that there are. And-" she hesitated again.

"I can ask him things, and he gives me an answer, and he's always, always honest with me."

Charlie felt suddenly emotional and looked out in front of the horse.

"Honesty is very important between two people," Mr. Beets said, in quiet agreement.

"He reads to me every single night," Charlie went on, turning to look at him. "We've finished two books, and we're on

our third. He says even if I've done something wrong, that he won't take away our reading time at night."

"I can tell from your voice, that the reading time is very important to you," Mr. Beets said.

Charlie nodded. "It is."

"You mentioned if you've done something wrong," he said. "Tell me about that."

Charlie regarded him dubiously. She didn't want Mr. Beets to think that Scott was too stern. Or not stern enough.

Thinking how to best impress the man, all of those emotions played across Charlie's face.

"I'm not going to judge," Mr. Beets told her. "You can just be honest with me, Charlotte."

Charlie bit at her lip, and then nodded. "Well, he said I'm not to leave Katherine's house, and run off again. Not even for

a day. And he said I mustn't lie, or try to keep things hidden from him."

Mr. Beets nodded in approval. "What would he say, do you think?"

"He would make me write lines, or a report," Charlie said.

"Has he had you do that? Write lines?"

Charlie nodded.

"And, how did you feel about that?" Mr. Beets asked.

"I don't like it," Charlie said flatly, without any hesitation.

"It seems as though it's a fair consequence to behavior," he said, sounding approving.

Charlie regarded the man thoughtfully, debating. And then she went on, to tell him about how

she'd confiscated the letter that Katherine had sent to Scott, fearing that it was instructing her to return back to

Stockton.

Mr. Beets looked a bit surprised at her admission.

"I told Scott that I felt all strange inside, after I took the letter and hid it. And he said that was my conscience,

guiding me to what I should do. And he made me write lines," Charlie went on.

"What would your aunt say, to the same?" he asked her.

"She would say nothing," Charlie answered flatly. She went on, without thinking, "Even when I would take off,

and be gone all day, or even overnights, she never said a thing to me about it when I came back."

"Would you have liked her to?" he asked quietly.

And Charlie, again without thinking, answered from her heart. "Well, it would have been nice to know that

she missed me, or was at least a little bit worried about me. Scott would-" she hesitated.

"Scott would what?" he prompted.

"Well, he would have missed me," she said. "And he would have punished me."

"More line writing?" Mr. Beets asked.

"He'd spank me," Charlie said, in honesty. "If I ran off from here. Only I never would from here."

"Would he?" he asked, and Charlie nodded. After another few moments of quiet, he asked,

"Why did you, Charlotte? Leave Katherine's home that way those times?"

Charlie wondered if she had said too much. She sighed. She had no choice but to go on.

"Because it didn't matter," she said.

At his quizzical look, she said, "It didn't matter that I was there. And it didn't matter when I wasn't there."

For a long few minutes, the banker was quiet.

Charlie wondered what he was thinking.

"And now? Here, at Lancer? You don't feel that way?" he asked finally, quietly.

"Oh, no sir," Charlie said, in a rush of words. "Not ever. Not even the first night that Scott brought me here."

"It was a bit like coming home, then, wasn't it?" he asked, and Charlie looked at him in surprise at

his understanding.

"Yes. That's it. That's how it feels," Charlie said, gratefully.

L


	50. Hayloft hideaway

As Charlie and Mr. Beets rode back towards the house, Charlie brought up the thing that was concerning her

most.

"I wish we didn't have to leave today," she said.

"Do we?" Mr. Beets asked, unexpectedly. "Have to leave?"

Charlie shot him a shocked glance. "I thought-that we had to go back to Stockton today-on the

stage. I mean, I thought you were only going to visit one day-"

"I can spare another day or so," the banker said. "My staff at the bank know not to expect me until the

end of the week."

"Oh," Charlie said, and then she gave him one of her rare smiles. The full-blown one, that showed her dimples. "That's good. I'm

glad!"

"I'd like to spend a bit more time here at Lancer. It's quite some time since I've been on a ranch of this

size," he added.

"Would you like to see the kittens?" Charlie offered. "They mostly stay around the barn."

"I'd be glad to see them."

After that, Charlie rattled on, and made conversation, filled with humorous comments about Jelly's pig,

and other things. And the city banker found himself thoroughly enjoying her company.

He managed, without seeming obvious about it, to draw answers from Charlie about other topics.

Asking her about memories she had of her mother, and what she remembered of her father.

Things about Katherine that he was curious about. Charlie gave honest answers, not realizing that Mr. Beets

had his own agenda for asking the questions.

By the time they arrived back to the house, it was nearing the lunch meal time.

Going inside, Charlie was still animated, and when Scott came in, along with Johnny, Charlie went

immediately to greet him.

"Hi, Scott!" she said, clutching his hand.

"Hi, yourself," Scott responded. "How was the ride?" he asked then, addressing himself to the

banker standing nearby.

"It was a fine morning for a ride," Mr. Beets answered. "I enjoyed it immensely."

"That's good," Scott said, and Charlie tugged on his hand again, in excitement.

"Scott, Mr. Beets says he's not leaving today to go back to Stockton! He's going to stay for a few

more days!" she said.

"I'm not certain about a few days," Mr. Beets cautioned. "But for another day or two, at least. If that's

alright with your family."  
"I'm glad to hear it," Murdoch said, coming into the room in time to hear the last remnants of the conversation.

"We're definitely glad to have you," Scott said, and Charlie cocked her head at him.

Scott didn't seem all that surprised by the news, and Charlie wondered if he'd already known it.

At lunch, while eating hearty servings of Maria's tortillas and ham with vegetables from the garden, the conversation

was lively, with Mr. Beets and Scott swapping tales of their individual time in Boston. Murdoch talked

of Scotland, which Mr. Beets said he'd always had a hankering to visit.

After lunch, Charlie was assigned some afternoon chores, and Mr. Beets went off with Murdoch. Charlie

wasn't certain just where. She finished her chores, and went outside again, climbing into the loft of

the barn, where the mother cat had delivered her kittens the week before.

Happily content, Charlie didn't know how much time had passed. She heard the sound of a buggy or

wagon pulling up into the yard. Not thinking much of it, she stayed where she was, cuddling the

kittens. Then she heard voices. One familiar.

Just to squelch the quick horror that filled her, thinking she had to be mistaken, Charlie got up, and went to look out the barn loft

opening.

It was true! It was Katherine! Accompanied by a tall man wearing a fancy suit. Katherine stood beside the buggy,

smoothing her dress.

What was she doing here?!

Katherine gave a look around, and Charlie quickly stepped back, so as not to be seen, in case Katherine's eyes

wandered upward.

The door to the house opened, and Teresa stood there, at the threshold. Charlie thought that if she

were closer, she would see that Teresa's expression was one of shock, and distaste, at seeing the

unannounced guest.

"Poor Teresa," Charlie said, very softly to herself. She felt sorry for Teresa. But not sorry enough to let

her whereabouts be known. She watched, peeking around, to see Katherine walk to the front door, converse

with Teresa, and then go inside the house.

The man, meanwhile, climbed back into the buggy, and did a turn, traveling back down the road.

Charlie went to sit back down in the corner, with the kittens, cuddling them, and rubbing their soft

fur against her cheek.

She muttered to herself about what in blazes Katherine would be doing here. It was for no good purpose. Of

that, Charlie was certain. The only thing that made Charlie feel just the slightest bit better was the fact that

Mr. Beets was here. Maybe the older man's presence would prevent Katherine from wreaking havoc.

It was a bit later, when Charlie heard Maria calling to her. At first it was from the door of the house, then

it seemed that Maria's voice was closer.

Several times, Maria's voice called out. "Charlotte!"

Charlie kept still. Even as she did so, she knew she shouldn't. It was wrong to ignore Maria that way. But,

she did not want to go into the house and see Katherine. It would be better, Charlie convinced herself,

to wait until Murdoch and Mr. Beets returned from wherever they had gone. Until Scott rode up.

Some time again passed. Charlie found that she was really thirsty. But, there was no way to slip down and

go to the pump without being observed. She heard Jelly come into the barn, muttering to himself, and then

leave again.

"Charlie!" came Teresa's voice, standing just below the loft opening. "Are you up there?"

Charlie held her breath, remaining motionless.

Teresa turned and went back towards the house. Charlie heard her asking Jelly if he'd seen Charlie

anywhere around, and heard Jelly's negative response.

"Nope. Not since the mornin'," Jelly told her.

After that, Charlie stretched out on her stomach. It was so warm, laying on the hay, with the sunlight streaming

thru the cracks, that Charlie fell asleep.

She was woken by Scott's strong voice, calling across the yard. Charlie sat up quickly. She began to answer

him, when he called her name again, and she could tell he was annoyed. Angry sounding, even.

The sound of horse's hooves, and Johnny's voice mixed with Scott's.

"See her?" she heard Scott ask.

"Naw. Her horse is out there, so she's not gone ridin'," Johnny said.

"Maybe she went to the creek," Scott considered.

"I'll go down there and check," Johnny offered.

Charlie peeked out of the loft opening. They were standing nearly directly under, and she

could see Scott's face clearly.

"Where could she have gone?" Scott asked, and Charlie heard the worry in his voice. Mixed with the irritation.

"Aw, she's alright," Johnny said. "I'm sure of it."

"Uh oh," Charlie said, to herself. What had she done? She hadn't meant to fall asleep! Only to stay

gone until there were others that could deal with Katherine, besides Teresa.

"Snakes, and all," Scott said, looking around as if he would see Charlie suddenly reappear. "That's

what worries me. Or she might have gotten turned around, and lost direction."

"I'll ride to the creek," Johnny said.

"I'll ride over the pasture again," Scott said.

As they would have gone then, intent on hunting for her, Charlie knew that she had to speak up. She couldn't

let them go out searching for her that way, not when they'd already apparently been looking.

She scooted over to the center of the loft opening, sitting on her knees.

"I'm up here, Scott," she said. Quietly, but able to be heard, because both men turned immediately to

look up.

"Charlie," Scott said, obviously relieved.

"What are you doin' up there, pequeno?" Johnny demanded.

"I was-just looking at the kittens," Charlie said.

Scott's facial expression changed from that of relief to hardness.

"How long have you been up there?" Scott asked.

Ah. The question that had the answer that would put her in a major bad spot with him. With everyone.

Charlie was still debating on her answer, when Scott said, in a controlled way, "Come down from there. Right now."

Controlled, but Charlie could hear the terseness and anger beneath the words.

"I think I'm best up here," Charlie said.

"Your crimes are mounting, as we speak," Scott said. Charlie wasn't certain just what he meant by that, but

his next words were clear enough.

"Unless you prefer that I come up there, you'd best hustle yourself down," Scott said.

"I'm coming," Charlie said, hastily scrambling to her feet, and descending the ladder. She'd more than

half expected that Scott would be waiting at the bottom of the ladder, ready to snatch her off and

turn her every way but loose.

But, he wasn't standing there. Charlie went to the open door of the barn, and paused. Scott was still

standing in the exact spot, Johnny beside him.

Charlie stood there, feeling rooted to the spot.

"Come here," Scott ordered.

Charlie came, her stomach knotted with nervousness.

"I'll go let everybody know we found her," Johnny said, and turned to go towards the house.

"Were you up there, this whole time?" Scott asked. "While everybody was calling to you? Looking for you?"

"I guess I fell asleep," Charlie told him, wishing that he wouldn't look at her that way. All flashing eyed, and

with his jaw set.

"You heard nobody calling to you?" Scott demanded.

"I heard Teresa," Charlie admitted.

Scott stood there, and Charlie was actually fearful. He looked so, so angry. The truth tumbled out

of her.

"I heard Maria, too."

"Did you answer?" he asked.

Charlie shook her head.

"Words, Charlie."

"No, I didn't answer," Charlie admitted.

"Why not?" he asked then.

For a moment Charlie was startled by the question.

"I didn't want anyone to know where I was," she said. "I wanted to wait for you or Murdoch, or Mr. Beets-"

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want to see her-" Charlie answered, without thinking.

"Ah," Scott said, quietly. "So you saw Katherine arrive, hmm?"

Charlie chewed at lower lip.

"Answer."

"Yes, Scott."

"So, because you saw her, and didn't want to have to talk to her, you ignored Maria and Teresa when

they were calling for you? That's not right, Charlie," he said severely. "They were worried about you. We were all worried."

"I'm sorry," Charlie said.

Scott regarded her for such a long few moments, that Charlie grew even more uncomfortable under that gaze. She shifted

from foot to foot.

"I want you to go to your room, and wash up, and change to a dress," Scott told her. "Then you can apologize to Maria, and to

Teresa. Then come to the library to speak to your aunt."

"Yes, Scott," Charlie said, and then said, timidly, "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Why is she here?"

"For a visit, she says."

Charlie considered that, not believing it for a moment. Still, she had more pressing concerns. And the concern

was standing directly in front of her. Looking decidedly put out.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked.

"What do you think?" Scott countered.

"I think that you are," Charlie said.

"And you would be correct," Scott said. "Let's go." He turned and headed towards the house, and

Charlie followed him, feeling discouraged and worried. Inside, escaping the notice of Maria for the time

being, Scott stopped at the end of the staircase.

"Just a minute," he said, catching his hand thru the straps of her overalls to stall her. "You be polite, and use

your manners, this entire evening. You do not misbehave at the supper table. Understood?"

"Yes."

"We're going to have a talk about your behavior. Thinking that it's acceptable to ignore others, and worry

them," he warned.

"Scott-" Charlie began.

"Go on up, and get changed. And don't be long about it," he said, and released the back of her overalls,

turning to go towards the library.

L


	51. In the Trenches with Katherine

Once upstairs, in her room, Charlie poured water from the pitcher into the bowl, and scrubbed her hands, and then her face.

She took off the dirty overalls, and stood before the wardrobe, trying to decide on a dress to wear.

Here at Lancer, there weren't that many to choose from. A plain blue one, which was by far her favorite, a pale yellow one, a bit more fancy

than the blue. And lastly, a peach-colored one, with lace all around the neck, and lots of black buttons to fasten down the back.

Charlie finally chose the yellow one. Without Teresa or anybody else to help her, she knew she would never be able to manage

all those buttons down the back of the peach dress. She pulled on her petticoats, and then the yellow dress, and then sat down on the bed to begin on

her stockings. Muttering to herself about how it was too hot to wear the darned stockings, she finished and then stood before the

full-length mirror, trying to reach to fasten the few buttons at the back of the dress. Thinking that she'd heard Scott's voice in the

hallway, she went and opened the bedroom door, peeking out. There was no sign of anyone in the hall, though Charlie could hear

the rumble of the men's voices downstairs. She left the door ajar and went back to the mirror, turning her back and twisting to look

at her reflection, trying to finish the stubborn buttons.

Frustrated, Charlie muttered a swear word. One, which if Maria had overheard, would have earned Charlie a scathing look and

possibly a smack.

"Problems?" said a voice from the open door.

Startled, Charlie looked. Johnny's grinning face greeted her.

"I can't do up my buttons," Charlie said.

Johnny came into the room, and twirled his index finger in a circle. "Turn 'round and let me see," he said.

Charlie turned obediently, wiping her hand across her forehead, and thru her bangs. It was hot.

"I hate wearing a dress," Charlie complained, as Johnny began to fasten the buttons.

"You look real nice," Johnny consoled her.

"I still hate it," Charlie said.

"One of these days, you won't hate it so much," Johnny said. "You'll want to wear pretty dresses, and go to parties."

"Are you sure?" Charlie asked, looking at him from his reflection in the mirror. "It doesn't sound like me at all."

Johnny chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure of it, pequeno. As sure as I am of the sun risin' every day."

"Have you seen her?" Charlie asked him, in an abrupt change of subject.

There was no need to identify the 'her' of which Charlie spoke.

"Just in passin'. On my way upstairs to put on a clean shirt."

"How does she look?" Charlie asked him.

"Same as she usually does. Like she stepped out of a dressmaker's window."

"Men dote on her, just because of her looks," Charlie said. "That's how she gets by with how she treats people."

Johnny didn't respond to that comment. He gave her waist a pat. "There you go. All buttoned up."

"Thank you," Charlie said, turning to look up at him.

Johnny lifted one of the wayward auburn curls. "Better brush your hair," he said.

"Will you help me?" Charlie asked him. "It's hard to get all the knots out by myself."

"Brushin' a lady's hair isn't really in my area of talents," Johnny said. "But, I guess I can give it a try."

Charlie stepped to the dressing table, and got her hairbrush, handing it off to him.

Johnny sat down on the edge of the bed. "Come over here."

Charlie went to sit down in front of him, and Johnny went to work on the windblown curls.

"You've got straw in your hair," he said, pulling out a piece.

"From the hayloft," Charlie offered.

As he brushed her hair, Charlie's expression was thoughtful. "Do you think I'm going to be pretty, Johnny? When I grow up?"

"You're gonna be far more than pretty. You're already beautiful."

"Really? You mean it?" she asked.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"Maybe if I am, then I can learn how to manage people like Katherine does."

Johnny paused in his brushing of her hair. "Turn 'round here a minute," he ordered.

Charlie turned to face him.

"I don't want to hear you talk like that, pequeno," Johnny said.

His expression, and his tone were both very, very serious.

"I don't want you to be mad at me, too, Johnny!" Charlie said, her eyes wide with worry. "I didn't mean anything by

what I said!"

"I'm not mad. I just don't wanna hear you talk like that. Do you understand why?"

Charlie nodded.

"Tell me," Johnny said.

"Because it's not the right thing to try to work people the way that Katherine does, just to get them to do what you want."

"If you know that already, that it's wrong, then why are you sayin' you want to learn how to manage people?" Johnny asked her.

"I just-" Charlie hesitated. Then she shrugged. "I don't know."

"Hmm," Johnny said, still serious. "Well, we'll have to talk some more about this another time. Turn 'round and let

me finish your hair. Murdoch's gonna be hollarin' up the stairs for us in a minute."

When her hair was finished, and she'd pulled on her shoes, the two of them headed down the staircase

together. At the bottom of the stairs, Charlie reached for Johnny's hand.

Recognizing the gesture for just what it was, a need for comfort and reassurance, Johnny gave her hand

a squeeze.

They went into the library then, where Murdoch was seated in one of the big chairs, and Katherine sat across from

him, on the settee. Mr. Beets sat on the other end of the settee, and Scott was leaning against the desk.

Mr. Beets and Murdoch both stood up, and Murdoch said, "Here's our girl," in greeting.

Katherine's gaze settled immediately on Charlie. "Hello, Charlotte," she said.

"Hello."

"I think you've gotten taller since I saw you last," Katherine said.

Charlie felt tongue-tied, with everyone in the room looking at her. She felt Johnny give her hand

another squeeze, encouraging her to answer.

"I guess I am, getting a little taller, maybe," Charlie said.

"I'm sure of it," Katherine said.

"You look lovely, sweetheart," Murdoch said, with a smile for Charlie.

"You do, indeed," Mr. Beets said in agreement.

"Thank you," Charlie said.

"Come and sit beside me," Katherine commanded, and Mr. Beets got to his feet.

"Yes, come and sit by your aunt," he told Charlie.

Charlie went and obediently sat beside Katherine on the sofa. "Tell me what you've been doing," Katherine

said.

Knowing that the interest in Katherine's voice and expression were merely for show, Charlie found it difficult to

answer at all.

"I've been helping Maria in the garden, and riding my horse a lot," Charlie said.

Katherine reached out a hand, as if she were about to touch Charlie's hair. At the last moment, she let her hand

drop back to her lap. "Yes. You look as though you've been in the sun a considerable amount," she said, managing to

sound disapproving. "Your skin is as tanned as any man's I've seen."

"The sunshine is good for a person," Charlie couldn't resist saying. "Maria says so."

"I'm not saying the sun's not beneficial," Katherine said. "But you should take care of your skin as well. And your hair-" She let her

voice trail off in disapproval.

Charlie put up a defensive hand to her hair. "What's wrong with my hair?" she asked.

"You should be putting it up, not wearing it down like that, tumbling all over your shoulders. You're becoming a young lady, and

young ladies put their hair up."

Charlie felt her face flush. Not really in embarrassment, but in anger.

Before she could speak out in that anger, Johnny intercepted swiftly, but with a touch of iron under the smoothness in his tone.

"That's my doin'," he said. "Charlie had to make do with me as a ladies maid this afternoon, to help with her hair."

"I see," Katherine said, giving Johnny a perusal.

"Charlie's hair is pretty, no matter how she wears it," Scott added. "And she has plenty of time to worry about all the requirements

for being a young lady."

His tone was firm, with no room for further argument or comments, and, as Katherine subsided, albeit ungracefully, Charlie gave

Scott a dimpled smile of thanks.

After that Mr. Beets took control of the conversation, telling Katherine about the activities around the ranch that

he'd seen Charlie take a part in.

After all he'd said, though, Katherine's only comment was a patronizing, "It sounds very interesting."

Charlie, as well as the others, was surprised by Mr. Beets stout reply. "It is interesting. I'm having a fine time." His eyes, behind

his glasses, met Charlie's.

"I do believe I'm having the best time I've had in years," Mr. Beets added, and Charlie gave him a genuine smile.

L

During the supper meal, Katherine managed to bring the conversation around to Charlie's schooling.

"And, have you been reading while you're here at the ranch?" Katherine asked, looking across the table to Charlie.

"I've been reading a lot," Charlie said.

"Genuine reading? Or perhaps, instead, it's some of those western dime novels, about the outlaws?" Katherine countered, and

everyone in the room caught her condescending tone.

Before Charlie could speak up to reply, Murdoch answered for her. "No dime novels. Charlie has finished 'Little Men'. And you

and Scott are reading 'Alice in Wonderland', aren't you?"

Charlie nodded. "Yes."

"You've been reading 'Black Beauty', too, haven't you?" Scott prompted her.

"Yes."

"What about your other studies?" Katherine persisted. "Have you been keeping up with those?"

Charlie looked across the table at Scott, who was seated next to Katherine.

"We haven't spent much time on mathematics," Scott said, answering for Charlie. "We've been busy with other

things."

"Murdoch's been showing me some geography, though," Charlie spoke up. "In one of his books, about

places all over the world."

"That's good. I believe that traveling is one of the most rewarding things that a person can do," Katherine said, and then

began to talk of the places that she'd traveled to.

With Katherine managing to have the conversation centered on herself, Charlie sighed in relief, and dug into her

supper. She lifted her eyes to see that Scott was giving her a half-smile, totally in understanding about her relief.

After supper, Charlie envied Teresa, who was able to escape to the kitchen to help with the dishes. For the first time,

she wished she could do dishes, too, and plunge her hands into the hot soapy water, in order to have a respite from

Katherine.

As she would have slipped away, leaving the table, Scott put his hand on the center of her back.

"Come on into the library," he said, in a low tone.

"Is she spending the night here?" Charlie asked, in a whisper.

"I don't think so," Scott said, equally quietly. "I think she's taken a room at the hotel in town."

"I still don't understand why she's here," Charlie said, looking up at Scott for any sign that he knew the reason.

Scott's face gave nothing away. He merely said, "It's not going to hurt you to sit in the library for a little while

longer, and answer questions if you're asked."

There was no response that she could make to that comment, not any that wouldn't sound sassy. So Charlie

held her tongue, and followed along, as the family and Mr. Beets went into the library with Katherine.

Back in the library once again, everyone took a seat around the room. Charlie purposely held back, so that

she could go, at the last moment, to sit beside Murdoch, in his oversized chair.

Katherine began talking of Charlie's return to Stockton, and immediately Charlie felt her stomach

tighten in nerves.

Katherine gave all the men in the room an engaging smile. "After all, Charlotte has had a nice long visit

here at Lancer this time, and school will be beginning in just about three weeks. It's time to get her settled-"

"What school were you thinking of?" Mr. Beets asked.

"Well," Katherine said, giving the banker another of those disarming smiles. "It's as I spoke to you earlier, Emmett. There

is a very nice school in Bakersfield. The girls can board there and-"

"No, I don't think so," came a decisive tone.

Katherine swiveled to look at Scott. "Excuse me?"

"I said no, I don't think so," Scott repeated. "Boarding school isn't the right choice for Charlie right now."

"Well, Scott, I beg your pardon, but I don't see that it's any of your concern-" Katherine began.

"It is my concern," Scott said, with finality. "Charlie is my concern, and she has been for months now."

There were bright spots of color on Katherine's cheeks. "I see that we have a situation here. Emmett, I would appreciate

you setting Scott straight on this issue. I am Charlotte's guardian, and as such, I make all the decisions-"

"No, Katherine," Mr. Beets said quietly, but with authority. "I think our situation has changed somewhat."

"I will not be dictated to!" Katherine's voice rose in agitation.

Charlie, who had been watching, and listening to the exchange, her eyes wide, felt Murdoch's hand on her waist.

"Go on along to the kitchen, and help Teresa and Maria finish up," he said.

Charlie swung a look of protest at Murdoch. She wanted to stay right here, where she was. It seemed as though

Katherine was going to be meeting resistance for sure, and Charlie wanted to be a witness to it.

"Charlie," Scott spoke, from where he stood, swirling the drink in his glass.

Charlie looked to Scott, and he gave the briefest of nods. "Go on," he said softly.

L


	52. BeetsScott, 1 Katherine, 0

Charlie left the room, albeit reluctantly. She went to stand just outside the door, and then went on to the kitchen. Maria was gathering up her

things, preparing to leave for her own home for the evening.

Teresa, meanwhile, was setting cups onto a tray. Both women looked up as Charlie came into the kitchen.

"How is it going?" Teresa asked.

"They're talking," Charlie said.

Maria said goodnight, and both girls answered her. When Maria had gone, proclaiming that she would see them in the morning, Charlie

sidled up closer to Teresa, and said softly, "They threw me out!"

"What?" Teresa asked, looking surprised.

"I think they were getting ready to give it to Katherine, but good! And they told me to leave the room!"

"Hmm," Teresa said, looking thoughtful. She lifted the coffee pot from the stove, using a hot pad, and set it on the tray with

the cups. "What's it all about?"

"She said something about me boarding at the school in Bakersfield, and Scott started telling her off!" Charlie relayed with

excitement.

"Good for Scott," Teresa said. She lifted the tray, and said, "Hold the door for me, will you?"

Charlie pushed open the door leading out of the kitchen. "Are you taking that to them?" she asked Teresa.

"Of course I am. I don't plan to drink all this coffee by myself."

"You'll be able to listen, then," Charlie said, in glee. "And then you can tell me what they say!"

"Charlie," Teresa said, giving the little girl a look that was meant to discourage her.

At the door of the library, still half-ajar, as Teresa prepared to enter the room, Charlie whispered, "Don't let them know

I'm out here. Please?"

Teresa shook her head in dismissal, and pushed the door open with her hip.

In the hall, Charlie stood against the wall, trying mightily to overhear the conversation taking place. It seemed as though it stopped,

and then, just a couple of moments later, Teresa reappeared.

"Why didn't you stay in there?" Charlie whispered.

Teresa pressed her finger to her lips, and stepped away, before saying quietly, "Murdoch told me to set the tray down. I don't think

he wanted me in there, either."

"Aww," Charlie whispered, in disappointment.

Teresa pressed her finger to her lips again, and then stepped back over to the wall next to the library door. Charlie grinned, and stationed herself

next to Teresa. Even with the door half ajar, though, it was difficult to hear much. At one point, Katherine's voice was raised enough

for them to hear the words, "No thought to myself!"

Then, without any pre warning, the door was pulled open, and Johnny came out. When he saw them standing there, pressed against the

wall, he lifted an eyebrow, and then pulled the door shut.

"Hear enough?" he asked them in a low tone, trying to appear disapproving.

"Hardly anything," Teresa said.

"And now that you shut the door, we won't be able to hear at all," Charlie complained, in a whisper.

"You don't need to be hearin' it, anyway, pequeno," Johnny said, reaching down to tap Charlie's nose with the tip of his finger. He

went off toward the kitchen, and, after exchanging a look between them, the girls followed him.

Johnny busied himself pouring a glass of buttermilk.

"Maria left a big piece of chocolate cake for you," Teresa told him.

"Sweetest lady livin'," Johnny said.

"I'll get it for you," Teresa said, amused.

As she was getting the cake, Johnny sat at the kitchen table, the glass of cold buttermilk in front of him. Charlie came to stand

beside him, right at his shoulder.

"What's happening?" she asked him.

Johnny, finishing a long swallow of milk, wiped his hand across his mouth. "It's gonna be okay, pequeno," he said.

"Well, what does that mean?" Charlie demanded.

"It means it's gonna be okay," Johnny repeated. "You'll find out more once they're all done talkin'."

"Do I have to go to that boarding school?" Charlie persisted, her face scrunched up with worry.

"I don't think that you do."

"Well, what else? Did Mr. Beets and Scott tell Katherine off?" Charlie asked.

"You don't have to worry. They're all lookin' out for ya," he said, as Teresa set the plate with a piece of cake in front of Johnny.

"I don't see why I had to leave," Charlie grumbled. "Just when it was getting good."

Johnny reached out and pulled Charlie over to sit down on his knee. "Is there any more cake?" he asked Teresa. "I feel low, eatin' it

in front of you two."

"There might be some more," Teresa said, and after a couple of moments, she set another plate on the table, with a piece of cake

half the size of Johnny's.

"Here," Teresa said, handing Charlie a fork.

The three of them sat there, eating cake, mostly quiet. When the kitchen door was pushed open, Murdoch face appeared.

"Here you are," he said. "Your aunt is leaving to go back to the hotel. Come and tell her goodbye."

He went back out, the door swinging closed. Charlie took another bite of cake, licking the frosting from her fork. and not budging from Johnny's

knee.

"Better go," Johnny prodded her.

"I've waited on her plenty of times before," Charlie said. "Let her wait on me."

Johnny reached and took the fork from Charlie's hand. "Scoot," he told her.

Charlie sighed dramatically, and got up, going to push the door open, and walking towards the front door, where she

could hear all their voices. Murdoch was going out the door, saying that he would pull the buggy up to the house.

Someone who didn't know Katherine very well, someone who hadn't spent years observing her mannerisms, well, that person might

not have noticed anything different or off-kilter about Katherine. But Charlie noticed. There were still bright spots of color on Katherine's cheeks.

A sign, Charlie knew, of her temper. Her demeanor was decidedly frosty, towards Mr. Beets and Scott. At least it seemed so to Charlie.

Once Charlie had come into sight, Katherine turned and said quite plainly, "I'm going back into town now, Charlotte. Tomorrow I'll be

returning to Stockton."

She stood, looking at Charlie, seemingly waiting for something. A comment.

Charlie looked towards the two men, and then, unsure of what to say, she said simply, "Good night."

That was not the right answer. At least, according to her aunt. Katherine's face became even more heightened with temper.

"It's been agreed upon and decided that you and I will have luncheon together tomorrow, before my stage departs," Katherine said then.

"Oh," Charlie said, again looking at Scott. She didn't really want to have lunch with Katherine. Not at all. But, since it appeared that she was

not going to have to return to Stockton immediately with Katherine, she supposed she should act as though it was alright with her.

"Alright," she said.

"Someone will bring you into town," Katherine went on, and Charlie nodded.

"Good night," Katherine said then, and swept thru the door, to go with Murdoch.

When she'd gone out, Scott waited a moment, and then closed the door behind her.

Charlie looked at Scott and Mr. Beets, thinking that surely now they would tell her what had transpired in the library earlier.

She was to be disappointed.

"Would you like a nightcap?" Scott was asking Mr. Beets.

"Sounds good," the other man answered. He looked down at Charlie with a smile. "Will we be riding again together tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir, if you want to," Charlie said.

"I'd enjoy it, very much." He smiled again, and when it looked as though he and Scott were prepared to walk back to the library, Charlie couldn't stay

quiet.

"Excuse me," she said, and they both stopped, turning to look at her. "Can I know what happened? What's going to happen? With

Katherine and I, I mean?"

"We have some things, some issues, that we all still need to iron out between us," Mr. Beets answered. "So the details aren't set,

as yet. But, you will not be going to boarding school. Not at this time. And, you don't have to worry about not being able to come to

Lancer to visit. The visits will continue."

"I want to live here, though!" Charlie burst out, without thinking.

Mr. Beets looked to Scott, and then said, "Scott? I'll leave this part to you." He smiled at Charlie again. A smile that was meant

to be encouraging. But Charlie felt as though there were a hundred butterflies in her stomach.

Scott nodded, and as the banker walked on towards the library, Scott turned his attention to Charlie, leaning down

so he was on eye level with her.

"This is good news," he began, sounding calm. "You don't have to go far from home, to a boarding school. And we don't have to

worry about Katherine saying that you can't visit here any more. We made a lot of progress tonight."

Charlie looked unconvinced, her forehead scrunched in worry and puzzlement.

"Do I get to stay here, though?" Charlie asked.

"For the time being, you do. The rest of the summer, at least."

"And then what?" Charlie asked.

"And then, well, we'll see," Scott said.

"What does that mean?" Charlie demanded, sounding upset.

"It means, that we'll see," Scott repeated. "Murdoch and I are still working on things. We can't expect to get

everything that we want accomplished in one night, can we?"

Charlie subsided. "I suppose not," she admitted, glumly.

"I tell you what," Scott said. "You go on upstairs, and get into your nightgown, and I'll make sure Mr. Beets doesn't

need anything else for the evening. Then I'll find our book, and come up so we can do our reading. Alright?"

Charlie nodded in response, and Scott straightened up.

"How about some cocoa?" he asked. "You interested in that?"

"Yes," Charlie said, brightening somewhat.

"Alright. Go on. I'll be up in a few minutes."

So Charlie went upstairs, trying to puzzle things out in her mind the whole time that she was preparing for bed. And Scott

said his goodnights to their houseguest, and then went to the kitchen. Preparing to make hot cocoa, he also fielded

questions from his brother and Teresa.

"Has the dragon lady gone?" was Johnny's first question.

"She has," Scott said.

"What happened in there?" Teresa asked. "Johnny acts as though it's privileged information or something. He won't tell me

anything."

"It's not my place to tell anything," Johnny protested, and Teresa waved a hand at him.

"No boarding school," Scott told Teresa. "And she can stay the remainder of the summer."

"Well, that's good," Teresa said, watching Scott's face as he went about the task of preparing the two cups of cocoa.

Thinking that he seemed preoccupied, as though his mind was far away, she asked softly, "What is it, Scott?", reaching out to touch his sleeve.

"Nothing," Scott replied, and then gave Teresa a half-smile. "Everything. It's not anything that I can put my finger on. Just

my worries tugging at my mind, I guess."

"The kid really regrets havin' to leave the room, just as it was gettin' exciting," Johnny said, with a grin.

"I'll bet," Scott agreed.

"Mr. Beets helped, though?" Teresa asked Scott. "He stood up to Katherine?"

"He did," Scott said, with a nod.

Teresa gave a yawn. "I'm tired. I'm going up to bed." She snapped her fingers in remembrance. "I forgot, there's cups and things

in the library that need cleaned up."

"I'll get 'em," Johnny told her. "You go on to bed."

"Thanks," Teresa said, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Night, Scott," she said, patting his shoulder as she passed by.

Both men told her goodnight, and then, left alone in the kitchen together, Johnny finished his cake, and said, "I'd best

leave the whiskey decanter out, you suppose? Murdoch's likely to need a drink after drivin' the dragon lady back to town."

"That's the truth, I imagine," Scott agreed.

L

Scott carried the two steaming cups and the book up the stairs, and found Charlie's bedroom door ajar. She was sitting, cross-legged on

her bed, in her nightgown, with her hair loose around her shoulders.

"Here you go," he said, coming over to the bed, and handing her one of the cups.

"Thank you."

"I hope it's sweet enough," Scott said.

Charlie took a sip, and nodded. "It's good."

Scott sat down on the bed as well, taking a few drinks out of his own cup, and then setting it on the night table.

He opened 'Alice in Wonderland', and said, "Ready to read?"

Charlie nodded, and scooted over so that she was leaning against his arm, as he read. After finishing half of a chapter, Scott

marked the page, and said, "Alright if we stop for tonight? It's been a long day. I'm tired."

"It's alright," Charlie said, in agreement.

Scott closed the book, and then reached for his cup from the table.

Charlie kept her cheek against his arm, as they sat in quiet, each finishing their cocoa.

"Are you taking me into town tomorrow?" Charlie asked presently. "When I go to have lunch with Katherine?"

"I don't know for certain," Scott said. "It will depend on what work is needing done, I guess. If it's not me, then Murdoch might

take you. Or Teresa."

"Was it her idea to have lunch with me? Or did Mr. Beets force her to?" Charlie asked.

"She wasn't forced, Charlie. Truthfully, she seemed to like the idea."

Charlie gave a sort of a 'hmph' sound, signifying her puzzlement at that.

"I need to apologize to you about something," Scott said then, and Charlie lifted her face from where her cheek had been

resting against his arm.

"To me?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes. To you. I told you to come back to the library after supper, and right after that, it started to get argumentative. So, then

it was best for you to leave the room, so you didn't have to hear all the adults arguing. But I shouldn't have made you come back

in there. I should have known better."

"It's alright," Charlie said.

"Well, I'm still sorry for it," Scott said, laying a hand on her knee, and patting it.

Just as Charlie was giving him a dimpled smile, thinking how unusual he was for a grownup, Scott said slowly, "Now,

let's talk about earlier today. When you didn't answer Maria and Teresa, and had everyone searching for you."

Charlie's smile faded.

"We didn't know, any of us, whether you were alright, or how far away you were, or anything like that." Scott said. "I

understand about you being reluctant to see Katherine, but while you were avoiding her, you caused us all a lot of worry."

"I'm sorry," Charlie said.

Scott sensed that she was sincere, and he nodded. "I think you are. There's so many things that can happen on a ranch

like this. You could get cut by wire, or tossed from a horse. You could go out walking, and lose your direction. Dehydration

can happen fairly quickly, if you don't have water with you. And then there's the snakes to consider. All in all, staying hidden

like you did is really being thoughtless of everybody here."

"I won't do it again," Charlie said, in earnest. "I promise, Scott!"

"Alright." He gave her knee another pat. "Time for sleep. Hop under there." He held back the quilt, and Charlie

slipped underneath of it. Still sitting up, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Scott hugged her and then covered her with the quilt as she laid down. He reached over to turn down the lamp on the

bedside table. "Sleep well," he said.

"You, too," Charlie said, already sounding sleepy.

Scott took the two empty cups, and the copy of 'Alice in Wonderland', and went out.

L

Charlie drifted off to sleep, wondering what in the world she and Katherine would find to talk about the next day at lunch.

L


	53. Dragons breathe fire

Charlie and Mr. Beets went riding again the next morning. They took a different turn on this ride, and Charlie pointed out

various things of interest on this side of the ranch.

Again, he drew Charlie into conversation.

He asked her the things that she enjoyed about living in a city as large as Stockton. At one point Charlie referred to the house

in Stockton as 'Katherine's house'. An astute man, Mr. Beets caught that remark immediately, and thought that he recognized the

significance of it.

To be certain, he said, "Why do you say it that way? It's your home, as well."

"No, it's not," Charlie said immediately, brusquely, and then recovered her manners. "I mean, no sir, it's not really. It's Katherine's home."

"Have you always felt that way?" he asked her.

"Mostly. Yes, sir."

"Has she not made you feel that it's your home?" he asked.

"It just never felt that way. It's not a-" she considered. "A warm place. It's not welcoming. I always feel as though

I'm in her way."

"Has there been no goodness for you there at all, child?" he asked.

Charlie thought he looked as though he was sad.

"I just don't think that Katherine's really the sort to have a kid around all the time," Charlie said. "Some people aren't, you know."

"That's true enough. You don't feel that way about Scott, though, is that right?"

"No. I think Scott doesn't mind having me around."

After that, Mr. Beets steered the conversation to other topics. Lighter ones. Ones that did not deal with the planning of Charlie's

near future.

Once back at the house, after dismounting, and while preparing to unsaddle, Charlie and Mr. Beets looked up to see

Scott walking towards them, from the side of the corral.

"How was the riding?" he asked them.

"Very enjoyable," Mr. Beets answered.

"I'll untack Gurth for you," Scott said to Charlie. "It's time for you to go in and get washed up and change to a dress. It'll be time

to head to town soon."

"Okay," Charlie said. She was trying not to show her reluctance at going, but was fairly certain that she failed at it.

She went inside, and up the stairs to her bedroom, washing her hands and face, and then standing before the tall dresser.

Picking the simplest of her dresses, she put it on, and then pulled on her stockings and shoes, grumbling to herself about how

it was too hot to wear such things. She brushed out her hair, and then took one of her hair ribbons, and went back downstairs.

Charlie went in search of Teresa, but couldn't find her anywhere. Peeking her head into the library, she found not Teresa, but Murdoch.

He was sitting at his large desk, sorting thru papers there.

Charlie paused at the doorway, and Murdoch looked up from his task.

"Sweetheart?" he asked. "Do you need something?"

"I was looking for Teresa," Charlie said.

"I haven't seen her for a bit."

"Oh. I was going to ask her to help me with this," Charlie said, holding up the hair ribbon.

"Well," Murdoch said, pushing his chair back from the desk. "I'm not Teresa, but I can try to help, if you'd like."

Charlie came over to stand in front of him, handing him the ribbon, and turning around.

After a few moments of lifting her hair, and arranging the hair ribbon, Murdoch said, "There you are. I think it will pass

approval."

Charlie turned to face him again. "Thank you."

Murdoch surveyed her for a long few moments. "You look very unhappy, child."

Charlie hastened to assure him. "I'm happy that I get to stay here for the summer!"

"Happy about that, but unhappy for another reason?" he asked then.

Charlie met his eyes, blue as the sky. She shrugged.

"Is that an answer?" Murdoch prompted, raising an eyebrow.

"I wish that I didn't have to go and have lunch with Katherine," Charlie admitted.

"Hmm," Murdoch responded, his eyes intent on her face.

"I know that I shouldn't complain about it," Charlie said, though her tone suggested to Murdoch that she still wanted to

complain.

"I think you can manage a lunch without too much difficulty," Murdoch said, his tone calm, but firm.

"I don't know," Charlie said, her brown eyes just as intent. "I'm worried that I'll say something that I shouldn't say."

"And you don't think you have enough self-control to mind your tongue?" Murdoch asked her.

"It's hard when you're a kid," Charlie said, as if she were sharing something with him that would be new information. "To mind your tongue."

"It's just as hard when you become an adult," Murdoch informed her.

"But when you're all grown up, you can say what you like," Charlie protested.

"That's not true, sweetheart. Not correct at all," Murdoch said. "It may seem as though adults can speak their minds totally, at all times, but

that's not the way that it is. We still have to filter our words. Be mindful of the hurt we could cause by saying something we shouldn't."

"Oh," Charlie said.

Scott appeared at the open doorway, pulling off his leather gloves.

"Time to leave, Charlie," he said.

"Are you taking me?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"I thought I'd see if Murdoch could take you in," Scott said, looking to his father for affirmation. "I told Cip I'd help him with that cow

that's been down."

"I can drive her in," Murdoch agreed.

Scott nodded, as Charlie went to stand next to him.

"Katherine won't like this dress," Charlie said, and Scott surveyed her with a questioning eye.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because it's so simple. No lace, or frills."

"I think it's a pretty dress," Scott said, reaching out to smooth back her hair with his hand. "You look very nice."

Charlie sighed, and Murdoch and Scott exchanged glances, understanding one another without any words.

"Right, then. Let's be off," Murdoch told the reluctant Charlie.

Scott walked out with them, as Murdoch got into the waiting buggy, and then lifted Charlie up into the seat.

Murdoch wordlessly held out the reins towards Charlie, and the little girl gave him a genuine, dimpled smile,

and began to drive the buggy far too quickly down the lane.

L

Once at the hotel, the buggy brought to a halt, and parked, Murdoch got out first, and held out a hand to Charlie, who

took it, and then jumped to the ground.

Murdoch took Charlie's hand, and they went inside the lobby, where Murdoch went to the front counter, and asked

the hotel clerk to let Katherine know that they were here.

"Ah, the lady is already waiting for you, in the restaurant," the clerk said, gesturing towards the area beyond

the hanging curtains.

Murdoch said a thank you to the man, and they walked on into the restaurant, where the lunch crowd had begun

to fill the tables.

Katherine was seated at a corner table, wearing an emerald green dress, and an elaborate matching green hat. Charlie thought to

herself that the hat was a bit too much. Katherine looked over-dressed amongst the people in the restaurant, most of them ranchers and their

wives.

"I was beginning to wonder whether you'd arrive at all," Katherine said to Murdoch, mincing no words.

"I didn't realize that we were late," Murdoch said, giving the large oval clock on the wall a glance.

Katherine took his point, knowing full well that it was still several minutes until the noon hour, which was what had been agreed upon

the evening before.

"No, of course you're not late," she amended, with one of her most charming smiles. "I was just eager to have lunch with

Charlotte, I suppose."

"Well, here she is," Murdoch said, and Katherine spoke to Charlie.

"Hello, Charlotte," she said.

"Hello."

"Well, thank you, Murdoch, for bringing her to me," Katherine said, her intent plain. She wanted to see the back of Murdoch, and

he received her veiled message quite well. Charlie was still holding onto his hand, and he gave her small one a squeeze with his

large one.

"Alright, then. Have a nice lunch, and I'll be back to fetch you. An hour?" he inquired of Katherine.

"An hour is fine."

Charlie watched Murdoch's broad back disappear thru the curtains toward the hotel lobby, and then turned back to

her aunt.

"Sit down, Charlotte," Katherine instructed.

Charlie took a seat in the chair opposite of her aunt.

"You look very nice," Katherine said, and Charlie blinked at her, surprised.

"Thank you."

"That dress is a beautiful color," Katherine continued, and Charlie felt another spurt of surprise. Maybe Katherine was going to

really put an effort into being pleasant.

Then, with her next words, Katherine took the spirit of goodwill and crushed it. "It's very plain, though. I think you would be better suited with

a dress that has some flair to it."

"I like this dress," Charlie said.

The waitress approached their table, and took their orders. When she'd gone, Katherine turned her dark eyes onto

Charlie.

"I think it's past time for us to have a conversation, don't you?" she asked.

Not entirely certain just what Katherine meant, Charlie said haltingly, "I guess."

Katherine went on to say how the decision had been reached for Charlie to stay at Lancer the remainder of the summer.

"After that, of course, we will revisit the topic again. I thought it would be a nice change for you, to be out of the city a bit longer,"

Katherine went on.

Charlie had the intense desire to roll her eyes. She only just managed not to do so. Of course Katherine would want to be seen as

it all being her idea.

"That does not mean, however, that I'm entirely in favor of all the activities you spend your time doing there."

"I'm not doing anything I shouldn't be doing," Charlie protested.

"No, not in the way that you're thinking. I'm referring to all the outdoor things that you do. Have you practiced your piano

at all lately?"

"I play sometimes. After supper, Murdoch sometimes asks me to play for them."

Katherine sat back then, and later, when Charlie looked back on their conversation, she would have said that's when Katherine

became dark, reverting to her usual snarky self.

"You think now that Beets is involved, that things will always go the way that you want them to, don't you, Charlotte?"

Charlie studied Katherine, unsure of just what she was getting at.

"I don't know what you mean," she said.

"Oh. You don't?" Katherine began to peel off her white gloves, one finger at a time.

"No."

"I think, Charlotte, that sometimes you want to behave as though you don't understand, when really you understand

very well," Katherine said.

Truly perplexed, Charlie regarded Katherine out of wide eyes. And was silent.

"Beets seems to feel as though you would benefit from staying with the Lancer family for a while longer," Katherine continued.

Still Charlie kept quiet.

"I wonder, Charlotte, if you've considered something, in your determination to leave my home. Sometimes, when a person

takes on a cause, or a new sort of a project, well, they are very enthusiastic about it at the beginning."

When Charlie only looked at her, waiting, Katherine added, "Do you understand what I mean?"

"No," Charlie said honestly.

"Perhaps Scott was being benevolent, when he befriended you. And once that occurred, you've been somewhat of a novelty to him," Katherine said. "And,

sometimes, unfortunately, in things in life, the novelty wears off."

Charlie sat, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She didn't know what 'benevolent' meant. Nor was she certain what it meant to be

a 'novelty' to someone else.

She would not ask. She would not. She would find out somehow later what those words meant. But, she would not ask Katherine their

meaning. Katherine was smiling so nicely. So it seemed as though they weren't insulting words. Still, Charlie wasn't certain. So, she

said nothing.

The food arrived, and as soon as the waitress set their steaming plates on the table, and departed again, Katherine picked up her

fork, and said, "Trinkets can be entertaining. But eventually they, or the entertainment that they provide, become tiresome." She smiled again, and then began eating her

meal.

Charlie picked up her fork as well, and tried to eat, but found she had little to no appetite.

And though Katherine talked of other things thru the remainder of the meal, things that were of no particular worry or concern to Charlie, she

only half-listened.

When Murdoch came back into the restaurant, Charlie felt such a huge relief that she wanted to jump to her feet and run

to him. Right then and there, in front of the entire room of people.

She didn't.

Murdoch came striding over to their table.

"My goodness, is it that time already?" Katherine asked him, sounding surprised. "The hour went so very swiftly, didn't it, Charlotte?"

It hadn't. Not to Charlie. So she didn't respond. A response wasn't necessary anyway. Katherine went on talking, looking up at Murdoch

with one of her flashing smiles.

Murdoch's gaze flickered over Charlie's plate, the food barely touched.

"Are you still eating?" he asked her.

Charlie shook her head. "No. I'm finished."

"Please. Sit down and join us, Murdoch," Katherine invited expansively, gesturing to a third chair at the small table.

Murdoch, considering, let his eyes land on Charlie, and her face which had such a pinched, strained expression. Charlie looked

up at him, and Murdoch had no difficulty in deciphering the pleading in those huge brown eyes. They practically begged him

to refuse Katherine's offer.

"Thank you, but we need to be getting on back to the ranch," Murdoch said, and the look on Charlie's face

was so obviously grateful that Murdoch felt something in his chest tug a bit.

"Very well," Katherine said, and rose to her feet. She walked with them out into the hotel lobby.

"My stage leaves this afternoon," she shared.

"Safe travels," Murdoch said.

"Yes." She paused by the door to the hotel, leading outside. "I'll say goodbye here," she said. "We'll speak again soon,

Charlotte."

Charlie found that she had no words, but since Katherine was plainly waiting for a response, and even Murdoch was

regarding her, looking puzzled, she managed to say, "Alright. Goodbye."

As Katherine swept away, up the stairs, and Murdoch and Charlie went out onto the street, in the bright sunshine, Murdoch

reached down to give Charlie's hand a squeeze.

"Ready to head home?" he asked her.

Charlie gave a short nod in response, and once they were seated in the buggy, Murdoch offered her

the reins again.

"No, thank you," Charlie refused.

Yet another point to the fact that something was amiss with the little girl.

He said nothing, however, about her refusal to take the reins. He waited, instead, but when they'd gone a couple of miles, and

Charlie hadn't said a word, but only sat, looking as though she was puzzling over something, Murdoch asked, "I've always thought that

the hotel restaurant had good meals. You didn't seem to eat much of yours at lunch."

"No, sir."

"Was there something wrong with the food?" he asked.

"I just wasn't very hungry."

"I see," he said, and then resolved to let her confide in him at her own leisure, if she so wished to. Something was obviously concerning her.

Perhaps it was just the ordeal of being thrust into spending time with Katherine when she hadn't wanted to do so.

They were nearly home when Charlie spoke again.

"Murdoch, what does novelty mean?"

"Novelty?"

At Charlie's nod, Murdoch said, "Well, it generally implies something new, or different."

Recalling Katherine's words, about how she, Charlie, would be a 'novelty' that wore off as far as Scott was concerned, Charlie's

face paled. She went so white that Murdoch asked her if she was feeling ill.

L


	54. Closed off

When Murdoch asked her that, asked if she was ill, Charlie shook her head.

"No," she said.

Murdoch had pulled the buggy to a stop by now.

He frowned at her with concerned intensity. "Are you certain?" he asked, reaching out to lay his hand on her forehead. "You went pale

so suddenly."

"I'm not sick," Charlie told him. Murdoch withdrew his hand, but still scrutinized her.

"It's warm today. Perhaps it's that," Murdoch suggested.

"Maybe," Charlie said, in a small voice.

Murdoch signaled to the horses to begin walking again, and said, "Well, we'll get you home, and then you can get a nice

cold drink. I'll bet Maria will have some lemonade for you."

Charlie could tell by his tone, and by the sidelong glance that he continued to give her, that Murdoch was extremely

concerned. She answered how she thought she should, so that he would be put at ease.

"Lemonade sounds good," she said. She managed the words, but couldn't muster up a smile.

When Murdoch pulled the horses to a stop, Jelly was waiting to begin unhitching them from the buggy.

Jelly began telling Charlie that the mother cat had moved her kittens from the barn loft to a corner behind the barn.

"Oh," Charlie said, in reply.

As Charlie began to walk towards the house, Jelly called after her, "Aren't you gonna go check on 'em?"

"No," Charlie said, not pausing in her walking.

Jelly gave Murdoch an abashed look. "Never known her not to want to check on those kittens, as soon as she was able to."

"Maybe later, Jelly," Murdoch told the older man.

Jelly gave a shrug, and began the task of unhitching the horses.

Murdoch went on into the coolness of the house, and to the kitchen, thinking that he might find Charlie there, drinking

the previously discussed lemonade. But it was only Maria that he found there, busy grating cheese into a large bowl.

"Ha llegado el nino?" he asked her. ( _Has the child come?)_

Maria shook her head in reply. "No he visto," Maria said. _(I have not seen)_

Murdoch nodded, and went on to the library, where he poured himself a drink, thinking he would take a few moments of respite before

returning to ranch work.

Charlie, meanwhile, had gone upstairs to her own room, and taken off her shoes, and the hot stockings. She peeled off her dress

and petticoats, leaving them in a heap on the floor. She put her overalls and blouse back on, and then curled up in her window seat.

The air was stifling here, and she opened the window so that a breeze might come in.

She sat that way for a time, until there was a light tap on the door, and Teresa's voice spoke from the hall.

"Charlie?"

Charlie kept her head leaning against the window, and the door opened a fraction.

"Can I come in?" Teresa asked, her head appearing around the door.

"Yes."

Teresa came in, stepping around the clothes that were strewn all over the floor.

"Murdoch says you weren't feeling well," Teresa said, coming over to stand near.

"I'm alright," Charlie said.

"Are you?" Teresa asked, and when Charlie nodded, Teresa said, "How was your lunch?"

"It was fine," Charlie said.

"Oh. Well, do you want to help make some cookies?" Teresa offered.

"No, thank you."

Teresa was nonplussed for a moment, and then said, "Well, if you change your mind, come on down to the kitchen, alright?"

"Okay."

When Teresa had gone, Charlie stayed where she was, on the window seat. She curled up, her thoughts racing, until she

fell asleep from the warmth coming in the window.

L

Sometime later, when the afternoon sun had begun to pale somewhat, Charlie woke up to see Scott sitting beside her

on the window seat. Scott ran his hand over her hair again.

"Hey, there," he said.

Charlie sat up a bit straighter. "Hello."

"I hated to wake you, but it's nearly supper time," he said.

"Oh," Charlie said, pushing her hair from her face. She ran a hand over her eyes.

"Are you feeling alright?" Scott asked her then.

"I'm fine," Charlie said, a bit irritably. "Everyone thinks I'm sick, and I'm not."

Scott waited a moment, studying her face, and then he said, "Murdoch was concerned, is all. And Teresa said you didn't seem

yourself."

"I'm okay."

"Alright," Scott said, quietly. "How was your lunch?"

"It was alright."

"Things went well, then?" Scott asked.

"Fairly well."

Scott gave her an appraising look, without being obvious about it. There was something on Charlie's mind. No doubt about it. But,

she didn't seem to be in the mood to enlighten him, as yet.

"That's good," he said, deciding not to probe any further. He rested a hand on Charlie's back, and, instead of leaning into

him as she usually would have, Charlie stayed still, sitting up very straight.

"Supper in about twenty minutes," Scott said.

Charlie nodded, and Scott stood up, going to the door.

L

Scott was contemplative, going on to the library and having a pre-dinner drink with Murdoch.

"How is she?" Murdoch asked, looking up as Scott came into the room.

"There's something on her mind, most definitely," Scott said.

"She's not ready to share it with you?"

"No."

"Well," Murdoch considered, "Perhaps she'll feel like talking later. Maybe at bedtime, when you do your nightly reading."

"Maybe so."

They were joined then, by Beets, who took the glass of whiskey that Murdoch offered to him. He asked about Charlie's luncheon

with Katherine, as well, and Murdoch told him what he knew. That there had been no glaring problems that he knew of, but that

Charlie was very subdued, and seemingly bothered by something.

"Katherine can be a very overwhelming sort of a person," Mr. Beets said. "I have no doubt that it's tiring for Charlotte."

As Murdoch nodded in agreement, Scott said, "Charlie can hold her own, for the most part. I don't think it's anything as

simple as that."

"Well, perhaps things will come to light soon," Mr Beets said.

They began to talk then, about Beets returning to Stockton. "I genuinely am sorry to leave," the banker said. "This has been

very enjoyable, like a holiday for me."

"You're welcome anytime at all," Murdoch assured him.

"I appreciate that. And I am glad that I came. It's brought me a much greater understanding of the situation than what I had

before. I regret not being more aware of things," Mr. Beets admitted.

Teresa appeared at the door of the library. "Supper is on the table," she aid.

"Has Charlie come down?" Scott asked Teresa, in a low voice.

"Yes. She's helping carry things in," Teresa said

When Mr. Beets greeted Charlie, she was polite enough in her reply. When, during the meal, he asked Charlie

if the lunch with Katherine had gone well, Charlie gave the same reply that she'd given previously.

"It was fine," she said quietly.

Beyond answering any questions she was asked, Charlie was quiet during the entire meal. She poked at the food on her plate,

only occasionally taking a bite at all.

"May I be excused?" she asked, as they were nearing the end of the meal.

Scott took in her still nearly-full plate, and said, "You've hardly eaten anything."

"I guess I ate too much at lunch," Charlie said. Too late, she remembered that Murdoch had seen how little of the lunch

meal she had eaten. She flicked her gaze in his direction, thinking he would say something. But Murdoch was silent, his

eyes studying her in contemplation.

"Alright," Scott said, and Charlie scooted her chair away from the table, going out of the dining room.

L

Charlie wandered outside, going to the back of the barn, to look for the kittens. There were only three of the four there. They were

becoming more independent, and were rolling and playing in the grass. Charlie looked around a bit for the fourth kitten, with no

luck. She was still doing that, all the while thinking over the conversation with Katherine earlier, and the words that she'd used.

A novelty. Murdoch said that meant something that was new. Something that was different. So, if she was to believe Katherine,

that meant that Scott, and all the others, would eventually not think of her as being interesting, or new. The 'novelty' of her, Charlie,

would wear off. Scott would grow tired of her.

And the other word? Benevolent. That was it. What did that mean, Charlie wondered.

She was still walking in the field near the barn, searching for the fourth kitten, when she heard a shrill whistle. Looking back

toward the barn, she saw Johnny standing there. He waved, and Charlie went slowly back over to where he stood.

"Hey there, pequeno," he greeted Charlie.

"Hi, Johnny."

"What're you lookin' around for?"

"For the other kitten."

"Oh. It's not with the others, huh?"

"No. Where do you think it is?"

"Maybe the mama cat hasn't moved it yet," Johnny said.

"Jelly said she did."

"Well, maybe she moved that one again, somewhere else."

"Why would she do that?" Charlie asked him.

"That's just the way of it, sometimes."

"Maybe that one is her favorite," Charlie suggested.

"Oh, I don't know," Johnny said. "Anyway, come on inside now. It'll be your bedtime soon."

Charlie sighed, and fell into step beside him, as they walked toward the house.

"Why weren't you at supper?" Charlie asked him.

"I was havin' supper with a friend."

"Oh." And then, instead of asking Johnny if his 'friend' had been a girl, and all sorts of other questions in that line, Charlie

asked, "Johnny, do you know what makes a person get to where they don't like something anymore?"

"Like what, for instance?" he asked her, and then added, teasing, "Like I don't like carrots, since we had them for a month straight?"

"Well, that," Charlie allowed. "And other things. Like-another person?"

"Why does somebody get tired of another person, you mean?" he asked.

At her nod, he said, "Well, that depends, I guess. On whether they can't get used to each other's habits, or such." He looked

down at the little girl walking beside him. "Is that what you mean?"

"I guess."

Johnny took in Charlie's long face. "What's wrong, little one?" he asked, laying a hand on the back of her neck as they walked.

"Nothing."

"Huh. Well, I don't believe that. I've got eyes. Somethin's eatin' at you."

"You don't have to worry about me, Johnny."

She sounded so serious, so much older than her age, that Johnny shook his head.

"Well, sure I do. That's part of bein' a family, isn't it? Worryin' over one another?"

There was just the slightest hesitation on Charlie's part, and then she said, "I guess so."

"How about we have a piece of pie, and you can tell me about whatever it is?" Johnny suggested.

"No, thank you, Johnny. I'm not very hungry for pie right now," Charlie told him.

And so, after Charlie had gone on up the stairs to wash up, and Johnny joined his family in the library, and he was regarded

by them all with questioning looks, Johnny replied, "I tried. I didn't get any further with her that any of you did."

L

When Scott went upstairs with the book they were reading tucked under his arm, he found, instead of her door being

ajar, as was usual when she waited for him, it was closed tight.

He rapped his knuckles on the door. He heard Charlie reply, but just barely.

He went in and found her, already tucked up in her bed, not sitting up and waiting as was also usual.

"Are you ready to read?" he asked her.

Two conflicting emotions battled for Charlie's expression. First, he saw the look of longing on her face, that quite plainly showed

her desire to hear him read. Then, following on its heels, a closed look. Hesitant.

"If you're too tired, then it's alright," she said. "You don't have to."

Scott sat down on the edge of the bed, the book remaining closed in his hand. What he wanted to say to her, was demand what

in the world was she talking about? What had happened to cause her to say such a thing, when their reading together was

a nearly unchangeable aspect? But, he didn't say those things.

He said, instead, simply, "I'm not too tired."

So, he read. An entire chapter. When he marked the page, and closed the book, he looked down at Charlie.

"This book is nearly done," Scott observed.

"It's a good story," Charlie offered.

"Yes. It is."

Scott smiled at her, and for a moment Charlie seemed to forget herself, and she smiled back at him. Then, the smile

disappeared, and she was pensive again.

"Mr. Beets leaves in the morning," Scott told her.

Charlie made no reply, and Scott continued, "I know that he wants to talk to you a bit more before he goes."

"Alright," Charlie said, sounding resigned.

Scott laid the book on the night table, and leaned forward just a bit, so that he was looking directly into Charlie's face.

"Is there anything that you want to talk to me about?" he asked her quietly.

Charlie hesitated, and just for the slightest of moments, looking into Scott's eyes, she thought of unburdening herself to

him. Asking him about what Katherine had said. But, then, she quickly dismissed that urge. It was too fresh. Too raw.

And besides, without knowing exactly what the words meant, she didn't want to risk it.

L


	55. Searching for a meaning

Charlie slept fitfully, dreaming disturbing dreams. One of which was a very strange dream. It consisted of Johnny munching on

carrots, and Scott walking very fast down a sidewalk. And in the dream, try as she did, she could not catch up to Scott.

Charlie woke from that dream, feeling as tired as though she'd run a race around town. Lying there, in the dark, Charlie debated. Usually,

she liked the dark of her room, and found it comforting.

This time, though, it wasn't comforting. It seemed as though it was larger than life, the darkness. Charlie went across the dark room to

the door, opening it, so that the light of the hallway would shine in.

Thoughts racing thru her mind, Charlie came upon a course of action. She went on into the hallway, and past Teresa's closed

bedroom door. Down the stairs, then.

She could hear faint voices coming from the kitchen area. Not loud. Just talking, and occasional laughter. She supposed

that it was Scott and Johnny, having their commonplace game of checkers together.

Well, no matter. She was fairly confident that they would stay there, intent on their game. They were usually competitive enough

that it absorbed all their attention. Charlie padded on thru the downstairs, in bare feet, going into Murdoch's library. A lamp had

been left on, and the glasses from the night caps were still sitting on Murdoch's desk.

Charlie closed the door quietly behind her, and went over to the shelves that held all of Murdoch's collection of books.

Searching thru the rows of books, intent on only one, Charlie didn't locate it on the first row, or the second. The third row was just a tad

too high for her to reach all the titles. Charlie pulled Murdoch's wooden chair over a bit, though did her best to not let it scrape on the

floor, and make noise.

Standing up on the chair, Charlie finally found what she was searching for, on the fourth shelf up. Having to reach, but she managed it.

She pulled the heavy brown volume from the shelf.

 _Oxford English Dictionary._

Still standing there, in the chair, Charlie opened the dictionary's pages. First she turned to the N's pages. Using her fingertip to search,

she found the word 'novelty'.

Murdoch had been correct in what he'd said. The definition of 'novelty' was written as ' _the quality of being new, original, or unusual. A new_

 _or unfamiliar thing.'_

Charlie stood there, holding the heavy book, thinking. Then she tried to think how to spell the other word that puzzled her.

Benevolent. Katherine had said that Scott had been feeling benevolent when he'd befriended her that day at the train station.

"Ba-nev-o-lant," Charlie said to herself, sounding out the word. But in the Ba's there was no word such as that.

In frustration, Charlie muttered, "How is a person supposed to be able to look up a word, when they don't know how to

spell the stupid thing-"

She raised her head with a snap. Voices were coming towards the library. Charlie held her breath, sure that she'd be

found out. But the voices paused, and then moved on past. Charlie could tell that it was Scott's voice, mixed with Murdoch's.

Relieved, Charlie waited another few moments, and then climbed down from the chair, still holding the dictionary. She would,

she decided, take it back up to her bedroom, and that way she would have a much better chance at being able to locate the word

'benevolent'.

She went to the door, opening it, and peeking out. There was no sign of either Scott or Murdoch, so she slipped out, and

started towards the stairs again. But crossing the entryway, she came face to face with Scott, a plate with a piece of pie in one hand.

Scott looked at her in surprise, as Charlie came to a sudden halt.

"Charlie, what are you doing up?" he asked.

For a moment, Charlie couldn't think of an answer. Not without telling him what she'd been doing. If she hadn't been

carrying the heavy dictionary, she thought that she could have said she was going to the kitchen for some milk or something.

That would have been believable, she thought. But the dictionary? How to explain that?

"I had a dream," she said, in truth. "It woke me up."

"Well, what are you doing down here?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"I-thought about getting a glass of milk," Charlie offered.

"Oh. Well, you didn't eat much at supper," Scott said. "I imagine you are hungry by now." He gestured towards the

kitchen direction. "Let's go see what we can find for you."

"No," Charlie said, swiftly, and Scott turned back to her, looking startled.

"What?"

"No, thank you," Charlie said. "I don't think I want a snack-"

"Some milk, then?" Scott offered.

"I changed my mind," Charlie said. "I don't think I want any milk, either."

"Alright," Scott said, studying her. Charlie could nearly see the way that his mind was working, trying to study on her.

"I better get back to bed," she said, but before she could put her feet into action, Scott reached down and touched

the book in her hand.

"What's this?" he asked, turning his head a bit to see the title. "The dictionary?" He looked even more puzzled.

"I was looking for a book-" Charlie said.

"And you chose the dictionary?" Scott asked. For a moment, he looked somewhat amused, but when Charlie's face

became warm at his scrutiny, and she avoided his eyes directly, his eyebrows drew together.

"What are you doing out of your bed, getting a dictionary at this time of night?" Scott asked then.

Charlie couldn't formulate a proper response. She searched for an explanation, but came up empty. She felt her

face get even hotter.

"Charlie?" Scott prompted. He no longer looked amused.

"I guess I didn't know it was the dictionary-" Charlie said. "I've been reading 'Little Men'-"

One look, only the briefest, and Charlie saw that Scott quite plainly did not believe that she'd mistaken the volume in her

hand as the copy of 'Little Men'.

He didn't say that though, or call her out as a liar. He reached out and took the dictionary from her hand, and said,

simply, "Charlie?"

"I heard a word!" Charlie told him, in a burst of frustration. "I wanted to know what it meant!"

"And it couldn't wait until the daytime to look it up?" he questioned her.

Charlie felt like stamping her foot. "No!" she said, much louder than she should have.

Scott regarded her with a stronger gaze of disapproval. He raised an eyebrow at her tone.

"I'm not committing a crime!" Charlie rushed on, her voice raising. "I only wanted to borrow it!"

"You don't need to shout," Scott said evenly.

Charlie subsided, still huffing a bit.

"Back up to bed," Scott said then, using the book in his hand to gesture towards the stairs.

Charlie hustled towards the stairs, past Murdoch, who was standing nearby now, observing the scene.

"Everything alright?" Murdoch asked.

"I think so," Scott said, and laid the dictionary on the oak table at the foot of the stairs.

Charlie gave it a swift glance and went on up the stairs, and to her bedroom, closing the door with a decided snap.

She climbed back into her bed, letting the darkness surround her, and thinking over what had just taken place.

It wasn't a crime, was it, to try to look up a word in the dictionary? What would have been the harm for

Scott to let her take the volume to her bedroom? Charlie huffed and puffed to herself.

She could hear the mingled tones of their voices still. Murdoch and Scott's. She tugged the quilt up to her

neck, and then, just as swiftly, threw the quilt off, too warm.

Still awake, and staring into the darkness, Charlie wasn't certain how much time passed. Sleep eluded her. It wasn't

only wanting to look up the word now. It was _a needing to._

Finally, she could stand it no longer. She got up, and went to her door, opening it and peeking out again.

It was only a quick jaunt to the top of the stairs, she thought. And then down them, to the oak table. She would grab the

dictionary, and come back to her room. Then, after she'd located the meaning, she would slip down to return the dictionary

where Scott had put it.

Charlie was at the foot of the stairs so swiftly that she impressed even herself. She snatched the dictionary, nearly

dropping it, and catching it just in time. Then back up the stairs again and to the sanctuary of her bedroom.

Once behind the closed bedroom door, Charlie took a deep breath of relief. She'd made it! Telling herself that she would

feel a lot better after finding out what the word meant, she went to turn up her lamp, and then sat down on the bed.

Opening the dictionary to the B's, she searched for the word again. _Benevolent._

Finally, after trying out several possible spellings of the word, Charlie located it with success.

 _Benevolent. (Well meaning, kindly, tolerant, compassionate, magnanimous)._

Charlie sat back a bit, letting the dictionary flap open, while she thought.

So Katherine had meant that Scott had been being kindly, compassionate, well-meaning to her when he'd helped

her as she was being chased that day by the fat man.

Charlie considered that. How had Katherine worded it? 'Perhaps Scott was being benevolent when he first met you'-.

Wasn't that the way she'd phrased it?

So Scott had been being kind? Well, of course he had. Charlie knew that. Scott was one of the kindest people

that she'd ever known. No news in that. Still, Katherine had meant that Scott was being kind, and then somehow Charlie

had become part and parcel of Lancer, and the people there. And she was a 'novelty' to him? To all of them? Johnny? Murdoch?

And Teresa?

So, when the novelty wore off? What, then? When having a girl her age around became something that wasn't new

any longer? Would it become like it had been at Katherine's? Where Charlie had been left on her own, and knew that she

wasn't really welcome?

No. Charlie quickly dismissed that. The Lancer family wasn't like that. They would never just 'leave her on her own'. They would

always watch out for her, know where she was, and what she was doing. But, yet, Charlie considered, biting at her lip.

Even though they would always be kind to her, and take care of her, they may regret having a child around all the time. After all,

they'd been kid-free. Able to do what they wanted, when they wanted, without having to concern themselves about a little girl.

Charlie realized that Scott hardly ever went out at night, to take a lady to dinner, or anything like that. He mostly stayed at

home at nights. With her. Maybe he was missing that sort of thing.

Maybe Scott would eventually feel sorry that he'd befriended Charlie. Even at that moment, Charlie knew that Scott truly

did care for her. He did. But, Charlie reasoned, that didn't mean that he would always be glad that he'd made a long-term

promise to take care of her.

Not sure quite how long she sat there like that, holding the closed dictionary in her hands, Charlie finally got up and went back to the

door. She'd best get the dictionary back downstairs, and then get to bed, though she didn't feel as though she would be able to sleep at all.

She went out into the hallway, and began her stealthy way down the hall again. Nearly to the top of the stairs, and Murdoch's door

opened at the other end of the hallway.

"Charlie," he said, and Charlie turned swiftly to look at him. Didn't anybody in this house go to sleep, Charlie wondered.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Charlie wished that she could hush him. Tell him to lower his voice. He was going to have Scott out here, too, in a moment.

"Charlie?" Murdoch asked again.

And then, Scott's door opened as well. He didn't say her name, or say anything at first. He was still dressed in his work clothes, though

his shirt was untucked, and he had his boots off.

Scott walked directly to stand next to her. He looked so stern that Charlie hardly noticed that Murdoch had gone back into

his own room, and closed the door. Focused on Scott's eyes, Charlie felt the first of many misgivings.

"You were told to go to bed," Scott said. His voice was low enough, but Charlie knew that was only so that he wouldn't

wake Teresa, or Johnny if he was sleeping.

When Charlie didn't answer, but only looked at him, Scott's voice was sharper. "Weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Then what are you doing up again?" His glance fell on the dictionary she carried, yet again. "I put that on the table

downstairs, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"What's gotten into you?" Scott demanded. And, then, before Charlie could even attempt a response, Scott

put a hand in the center of her back, and propelled her down the hall, and back into her own bedroom.

He closed the door behind them, and stood there, looking down at Charlie, his hands on his hips.

"Explain yourself," he said.

"I just wanted to look up a word-" Charlie said, feeling suddenly about as brave as a wet kitten. He looked so-

well, so formidable. Charlie knew the meaning of that word alright. And, that's how Scott looked right now.

There was nothing in his manner that was remotely _benevolent._

He didn't look kindly now. Or tolerant. Or well-meaning at all, Charlie thought.

"That could have waited until morning," Scott said. "I thought we'd already settled this earlier. Yet, here you are, up again. It's

nearly midnight, Charlie."

"I'll go to bed," Charlie said, looking at him tremulously.

"Yes, you will," Scott said. "Give me that dictionary," he added, reaching to take it from her. "Get into bed."

Charlie turned, and hurried to get under the quilt. She was a bit out of breath because of the way that she rushed at it.

Scott stepped over closer to the bed. "Why are you misbehaving this way?" he asked.

"I'm not trying to-to misbehave," Charlie protested.

"Well, no matter if you're trying to or not. That's what's happening. If you get out of bed again tonight, I'll turn

you over my knee. Do you understand?"

Charlie swallowed painfully. And nodded up at him.

"Alright," he said, and reached over to turn her lamp down. "Good night."

Charlie couldn't bring herself to respond with her own 'good night'. But, no matter. Scott didn't seem to notice.

He just went out, and closed the door behind him.

Charlie lay there, at first fraught with nerves at how stern Scott had been, and greater nerves at his threat of a spanking. But, then,

she felt herself getting cross. And, she laid there, feeling as though she wanted to cry hot, angry tears.

L


	56. The obvious

+Waking up the next morning, to the tap on her door, and Teresa's voice, telling Charlie to get up and come down to breakfast.

The thought of breakfast made Charlie think longingly of Maria's hotcakes, and bacon, or biscuits with apple jelly.

She got dressed quickly, in a pair of denims and a yellow shirt that Maria had sewn for her. Once downstairs, she went to

the kitchen, where the family generally had their breakfast meal.

They were all already assembled at the table, including Mr. Beets, who appeared to be nearly finished with his

plate of food. He was pushing the plate away, and telling Teresa what a good job that she'd done on the hotcakes.

There was a general chorus of good mornings sent Charlie's way, and she responded with her own quiet, "Good Morning."

"Perhaps, after breakfast, we can take a walk together," Mr. Beets suggested to Charlie, smiling at her from across the table. "I

have to return to Stockton today."

Charlie, buttering a biscuit, gave a brief nod. "I guess so. If you want," she said, in a vague way, taking a bite.

"Charlie," Scott said, so curtly that Charlie nearly choked on her bite of biscuit. "Answer politely."

Charlie looked at Scott, and then embarrassed, ducked her head. "We can go for a walk," she amended her

response to Mr. Beets.

After that, Charlie felt sulky. Why was Scott picking on her? Maybe he was already getting weary of her, just as

Katherine had predicted.

Her common sense told her that that was nonsense, but Charlie didn't feel like listening to her common sense just then.

She nibbled at her biscuit, but poked at the rest of the food on her plate. As everyone began finishing, and preparing

to leave the table, Charlie did the same, half-rising from her chair.

"No, ma'm," Scott said quietly, pausing beside her chair. "You sit down and eat."

"I'm not hungry," Charlie began to protest.

"Sit down," Scott said again, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Charlie sat, feeling her face flame.

"Finish the food on your plate," Scott said. "Mr. Beets will wait for you to go on the walk."

Scott left then, and so did everyone else, but Maria was nearby, clearing the table and beginning the washing up. Charlie

knew very well that Maria knew what Scott intended for her to do, and that Maria would back him up to the fullest.

So Charlie finished her biscuit, and her bacon, and ate the hotcakes. When her plate was nearly clean, she looked to

Maria.

"May I go?" she asked.

In Spanish, Maria directed her to finish her glass of milk, gesturing at it.

Charlie sighed heavily, as if put upon, an action which earned her a disapproving glance from Maria.

" _Travieso,"_

When Maria said that, her dark eyebrows all drawn together, Charlie wasn't quite sure what that meant.

"What?" she asked Maria, drinking up the milk.

"Naughty," Maria translated. "You are being naughty."

"I'm not," Charlie protested, feeling as though even Maria was against her.

"Si. Travieso," Maria maintained, taking Charlie's plate, and her now empty glass. And, with that, Maria turned to continue with

her dish washing.

Charlie got up, and went out the back door without saying anything more to Maria. She saw Teresa hanging just-washed

clothes on the clothesline.

"Come and help me!" Teresa called to her.

Charlie pretended not to hear, and went across the yard towards the barn, where Mr. Beets was standing beside the

corral, watching some of the ranch hands work with a new horse.

"It's quite something," Mr. Beets said in conversation to her. "Watching them work with an unbroken horse that way. I've never seen

it done before."

"Usually Johnny does it," Charlie volunteered. "I guess he's too busy to do this one."

After a couple more moments of observation, Mr. Beets gave her a friendly smile. "Shall we walk?" he asked.

So they fell into step with one another, walking out past the barn, and thru the field, and all the wildflowers. Charlie reached down to

pick one of the colorful flowers.

"That is beautiful," Mr. Beets said, admiring the flower.

"It's a poppy," Charlie told him. "Scott told me. He told me the names of lots of the flowers and-" Charlie let her voice trail

off.

"Well, that's just fine," Mr. Beets said, not remarking on Charlie's sudden trail off of words.

When Charlie was silent, Mr. Beets continued, "You enjoy that sort of thing, don't you? Going with Scott, and learning about the

trees, and flowers? And the clouds?"  
"I guess so," Charlie said, vaguely, smelling the flower in her hand.

"I'm sure that Scott enjoys it as well," Mr. Beets said.

Charlie shrugged in reply. The older man surveyed her, and then said kindly, "Is something bothering you, child?"

Charlie shrugged again. And then, looking into his expression, which didn't appear to be judging at all, Charlie said,

"Yes. Something is."

"I thought so."

Charlie waited for him to ask, to prod, about what it was. But he didn't. He only continued walking, looking around in

appreciation as if he was enjoying the sights.

"Is what I say to you private?" Charlie asked him. "I mean, do we have a-one of those confidence things?"

"Confidentiality?" Mr. Beets suggested.

"Yes. Do we have that?"

"Is what you're asking, if you were to tell me something, would I repeat it to Katherine?" he asked.

"Not Katherine," Charlie said.

"I see. So you want to know if I would keep it private from Scott, then?"

"Yes."

"Well, Charlotte, I must be honest. If it's something that was a danger to you, then it wouldn't be the right thing for me

to keep it from him. Of course, I want you to feel free to confide in me, but if it's something that nudges at my conscience, then

I could not keep it to myself."

"It's nothing that's a danger to me. Nothing that I've done wrong, or anything. It's nothing like that," Charlie said.

"Well, then," the banker said, gesturing towards a downed log. "Should we sit for a bit? And you can share whatever

you want to with me."

So they sat. A few moments of silence passed, and then Charlie said, quite bluntly, "Katherine says that Scott will get tired of me

eventually. That he was only being kind to me at the beginning, and that I'm like a novelty to him."

"Well, I never-" Mr. Beets began, and then he paused. He looked as though he was riled.

"That's not true at all," he said. "Scott, and all of the family, have a great commitment to you, Charlotte. They care for you very

much. You're not merely a passing fancy for Scott. Not at all."

He sounded so certain that Charlie felt ashamed for a moment. She had been being foolish. Listening to Katherine that way.

"Do you really think so, Mr. Beets?"

"I know so. I dismiss it as nothing but nonsense, and a bit of cruelty on Katherine's part. And I want you to promise me, please,

that you will talk to Scott about all of this, so that he can reiterate what I've said. And the sooner the better."

Charlie felt a little better after that, and she enjoyed the rest of her time with Mr. Beets, walking. Once back at the house,

Maria had packed a basket of food for Mr. Beets to take on his return stage trip.

"My goodness," he said, beaming as he looked over the food inside the basket, "This is so wonderful. That you, Maria."

Maria nodded, and the rest of the family gathered around to see Mr. Beets off, as he prepared to be taken into town by Murdoch

in the buggy.

"I've enjoyed my time here," Mr. Beets said, including them all in his words. "I'd like to return again in say, two weeks, to

check on Charlotte, see how things are going. If that would be alright?"

"More than alright," Murdoch said.

When Mr. Beets passed Charlie, to reach the buggy, he took her hand in his own.

"Thank you for the lessons in the wildflowers, and the clouds, Charlotte," he said, with a smile.

"You're welcome," Charlie said, realizing that she was actually sorry to see him go. "Thank you for keeping me from having to go

away to boarding school."

Mr. Beets leaned down a bit so that he was more directly on her eye level. "Remember what I said," he said, very quietly, "Sooner rather

than later, hmm?"

"Yes, sir," Charlie said, very quietly.

When Murdoch and Mr. Beets and the buggy were at the end of the road and nearly out of sight, Teresa went back towards the house, which left

Scott and Charlie standing there together. Even before she looked up at him, Charlie felt Scott's eyes on her. When she did look, it was to see

that his expression was one of a bit of questioning, though it was kind enough.

Charlie waited for him to say something, but when he didn't, at least right away, she said, "I'll miss Mr. Beets."

Scott nodded. "He's a fine man. A good friend."

After another moment or two of silence, Scott said, "Well, time to get back to work, I guess."

But, instead of walking on, Scott asked her, "What word was it that you wanted to look up last night?"

He didn't look irritated as he asked the question, and Charlie said, "Benevolent."

"Oh. Well, did you find it?"

Charlie nodded, and then added, in honesty, "It's tricky sometimes to find the meaning of a word, when you're not sure how to

spell it."

"That's true. It can be tricky," he agreed. And then, quietly, he asked, "Why was it so important to find the meaning of it last night?"

Charlie looked up at him. He didn't seem put out with her.

She hesitated, trying to find the right words to express herself. "It just-" she paused again. "It seemed as though I couldn't think

about anything else, or sleep, until I'd looked it up."

"Worthwhile enough to get yourself into trouble?" Scott asked.

Charlie studied his face. His grey eyes were soft again. Kind. "No," she answered sincerely.

"Well," Scott said, sounding as if he were considering something. "Benevolent, hmm?"

"Katherine said you're benevolent," Charlie said, in a rush of words.

Scott looked a bit startled, and then he lifted his brow in question. "She did?"

"Yes. To me. Benevolent to me."

Scott's forehead drew together in further puzzlement. "Well, that's an odd thing for her to say."

"You were benevolent when you first met me," Charlie added, watching his face for reaction. "That's what she said."

Scott studied her in return. "Did that bother you? That she said that?"

"Saying that you were benevolent didn't bother me," Charlie answered, choosing her words with care. "It's the truth."

"Then what did bother you?" Scott asked. "Because, I know there's something."

And, just like that, Charlie found that she wanted to tell him. To her chagrin, though, her eyes filled with tears.

"Ah, Charlie," Scott said, sounding regretful at seeing those tears.

Charlie moved quickly to wrap her arms around his waist, and press her face into his middle.

"M'sorry," she said, her voice muffled.

"What?" he asked, rubbing her back.

"I'm sorry, for being bad last night!"

"Here. Look at me," Scott said, trying to tip her head up to look at him.

Charlie resisted, keeping her face pressed against him. "No," she refused.

"Why not?"

"I'm embarrassed!"

"Why are you embarrassed?" he asked, rubbing circles on her back.

"Because I'm crying!"

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," Scott said.

Charlie raised her face to look up at him, her fingers still clutching at his shirt. "Am I a novelty to you, Scott?"

"A what to me?" Scott asked.

"A novelty. Is that what I am?"

"What sort of question is that?" Scott asked, bewildered.

"A real one," Charlie said, her eyes searching his with a pleading that caught at his heart.

After a moment, Scott said, "That it is." And then, with a suddenness that would have been startling if he hadn't been so

gentle about it, Scott picked her up as if she were as light as a feather. He gave her a rib-crushing squeeze, and Charlie wrapped her

arms around his neck, hugging him hard. After a long moment, Charlie raised her head from his neck.

"It's time we had a long talk," Scott said.

And Charlie nodded, in agreement.

L


	57. The catalyst behind it all

Scott packed a bag of easy-to-cook foods, and filled a canteen with water. And then, telling the family where they were going,

he and Charlie set out on horseback a short time later, their bedrolls attached to the saddles.

They rode for over an hour, and then they found the spot they'd visited once before, where Scott had first begun teaching

Charlie the names of the flowers and the clouds.

Against the backdrop of the rocks, they made their camp. Charlie helped gather sticks and Scott showed her the basic rudiments

of building a fire.

It was later, after they were done eating beans and biscuits, that Charlie explained the things that Katherine had said.

Scott listened, and then, when Charlie had finished, he was quiet for a few moments, choosing his words with care.

Charlie, meanwhile, watched him, her expression anxious.

"I guess in some ways, you are a novelty to me, Charlie," he said. Before Charlie could worry at his words,

he went on, "What I mean by that is, with a novelty being something new, and enjoyable, then you are that. I find that sometimes

when I'm with you, I get to see things thru your eyes. Seeing how you respond to things helps me see them in a different way.

That's special. So, in that way, you are a novelty."

Sitting next to Scott on the log, Charlie was watching him as he talked, and her eyes began to shine.

"In the way that Katherine said it, though, as if having you around is something I'll grow weary of, well, that's just wrong. There's

not a speck of truth to it. I can't imagine ever reaching the point where I didn't enjoy spending time with you."

Charlie hooked her right arm thru Scott's left one.

"You'll grow up, and I'll keep growing along with you, and we'll continue on," Scott said. "Alright?"

"Yes, Scott," Charlie said, her heart feeling full of love and hope.

"As for Katherine, well, she's an angry, bitter person. To say things like that to you." Scott reached forward to stir

up the fire again. "There's no excuse for it."

Charlie could hear the contained anger in his voice. Hearing that anger, and knowing that it was directed at Katherine, on her,

Charlie's behalf, made her feel even lighter.

"If I could-" Scott began, and then caught himself from continuing. To do so, wouldn't be appropriate.

"If you could, what?" Charlie asked, looking up at him curiously.

Scott looked down, meeting her eyes. Something in her expression had him relenting, adding, "If I could, I'd teach Katherine a thing or two."

"What would you do?" Charlie asked.

"Well," Scott said slowly, as if he were really considering what to say, and enjoying the hopeful glint in Charlie's eye, "I might

start out by tossing her into a water trough."

Charlie's eyes widened. "You mean it?" she asked. "For truly, Scott?"

"I mean it. For truly," he said.

Charlie giggled. "That's funny."

"It's not very respectful," Scott felt bound to point out. Charlie was watching, waiting. "So, it's between you and me, alright?" Scott added,

and Charlie giggled again.

"I won't tell anybody," she said.

After a few minutes, she said, "You really are angry at her for saying it, though, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Are you angry at me? Because I didn't come to you about it right away?" Charlie asked, seeming anxious again.

"I'm not angry with you, Charlie," he said, and Charlie sighed with relief.

"That's good," she said.

Scott nudged her in the ribs lightly. "But, if I were to be angry with you about something, it would be because you doubted us. You and me.

We're a unit." Scott reached down and picked up one of the poppies that Charlie had picked on their way up here. "See this?" he asked,

holding it out. "There's the stem, right? And then there's the flower itself."

Charlie leaned into him, wondering what he was getting at.

"Could the flower manage without the stem?" Scott asked her.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it needs the stem, so it can have water," Charlie said, puzzled.

"And what about the stem? What would it be without the flower?" Scott went on.

"Um," Charlie considered, "Just a plain stem?"

"So they help each other, right? Help make the other part better?" Scott asked.

At Charlie's nod, Scott said, "Well, I was thinking, that you and I, we're a little bit like the poppy. I'm the stem, and I can help give

you the things you need. Not just water," he said, smiling at her. "But other things, too. Care, and direction." He let his eyes rest

on her face. "Love."

At Charlie's dimpled smile, he went on, "And you're like the flower. Colorful, and vibrant. Giving the stem a purpose. Something

to take care of. You give me something to care for."

Charlie's smile faded, and she looked at him, her eyes full of emotion. "That's a nice thing-for you to say."

"It's the truth," Scott said simply.

"I love you, Scott," Charlie said.

"And I love you back."

L

After that night, things were a little different between Charlie and Scott. Whereas, there had always been, from the very

beginning, a spirit of affection for one another. Then love grew. Now, though, the interaction between them, whether spoken or

unspoken, was such that Charlie ceased to wonder if it could be broken. She knew that it couldn't be. She began to trust. Fully.

Even when Scott made three overnight trips somewhere, and was a bit close-mouthed about it, Charlie wasn't worried. Curious, yes.

But, worried, no.

She asked Scott on the morning of the second one where he was going, as he was preparing to head out, his

horse saddled, and waiting. In response, he leaned down and swooped her up.

"It's a surprise," he said.

"Really?" Charlie asked. "A surprise for who?"

"For you," he said, and tickled her ribs. "And for everybody else. And for me."

"How can you make a surprise be for yourself?" Charlie asked him, her dimples showing. "You already know what it is!"

Scott set her back on her feet, and tapped her nose with his finger.

"I guess you're right about that," he said. "You'll just have to wonder over it for a little while. I'll tell you as soon as I'm able to. I

promise. Alright?"

"Okay," Charlie said.

When a few days passed, and Scott was ready to set out on his third overnight trip, Charlie went to stand next to him as

he talked to Murdoch. Charlie wasn't certain, but she thought that Murdoch might know where Scott had been going. And then,

Johnny came from the direction of the corral, leading his saddled horse.

"Though I'd ride along with ya," he said, with a grin for his brother.

When they'd gone, Charlie looked up at Murdoch. "Do you know what the surprise is?" she asked him.

Murdoch tugged on her braid. "My lips are sealed," he said.

L

On the day that Scott and Johnny returned, it was early afternoon. Charlie was waiting, having been hoping that they'd be

along soon. She ran to greet them, hugging them after they'd dismounted.

"I'm glad you're home," Charlie said, including them both in her greeting.

"Well, I for one, am glad to be home," Johnny said. "How are things around here, pequeno?"

"Good. Except Gurth has a little cut on his leg." She held up her thumb and index finger to show him about how long the cut

was. "About like that. Will you look at it?"

"Yeah. I'll take a look," Johnny said, and held out his hands for Scott's reins. "I'll take him. I know you wanna talk to the kid."

Scott crouched down wordlessly, and Charlie climbed on his back, to ride piggy-back. As he walked towards the house, Charlie said,

"Mr. Beets is supposed to come today."

"That's right. He is," Scott said, as if he were only just remembering that fact.

"Maria is making a real special supper."

"That's good."

"Are you going to have to go again? Be gone overnight, I mean?" she asked.

"Nope."

They'd reached the entry of the house, and Scott lowered her to the ground.

"It's all done?" Charlie asked, looking at him curiously. "The surprise?"

"All done," Scott verified.

"When can I know what it is?" Charlie asked eagerly.

"Very soon."

L

That night, the supper meal was indeed a banquet. It was almost, Charlie thought, as if there was more reason to

celebrate, other than Mr. Beets having arrived for a visit again.

The conversation around the table was lively, and then, when the meal was finished, everyone congregated to the library.

Drinks were poured, and passed around, and Maria brought in a large cake. Large enough to feed more than their group.

"Stay, Maria," Scott said, as she set the cake down on the desk, and began sorting out plates and silverware to serve it with. "You have

a part in this, too."

The housekeeper looked up from her task with a wide smile. "Si," she said, sounding joyful.

Charlie, sitting beside Murdoch in the oversized chair, felt her curiousity explode into full bloom.

Scott, from his spot where he leaned against the desk, looked at Charlie, his eyes warm. "This is your party, Charlie," he said.

"Mine?" Charlie asked, looking around the room at everybody.

"That's right." Scott looked to Mr. Beets, who was sitting next to Teresa on the settee. "I'll let you do the talking."

Mr. Beets nodded, and looked directly at Charlie. "It was providential that you met Scott, Charlotte. It probably, in truth,

helped save you from being hurt. It wasn't a safe thing that you were doing, going about on your own, and hopping trains."

Charlie felt her face grow warm. This was how a party was celebrated? By beginning with a lecture?

Then, just as suddenly, Mr. Beets changed his demeanor to that of an indulgent 'uncle', smiling at Charlie widely. "There. I promise that's the only

scolding you'll receive today. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, still wondering what was going on.

"Your aunt has become enamored," he paused, to simplify, "Has become taken with, a group called the 'Native Daughters of the Golden West'. It's

a group of women who are native residents of California. They are dedicated to historic preservation, documentation of historic structures in

our state. Those sort of things."

"Oh," Charlie said, wondering still. What did another one of Katherine's newest women's groups have to do with anything?

"They take charge of placing historic plaques where they feel they should be," Murdoch added.

"They perform lots of charitable functions all over the state," Teresa said. Teresa looked as excited as could be, almost as if

she were going to bob right up off of the settee.

"Oh," Charlie said, again. Still at a loss to understand.

"She's become acquainted with one of the founding women of the group," Mr. Beets continued. "Laura J. Frakes. Therefore,

Katherine has decided that she will become involved quite heavily in the organization. She'll be spending considerable amounts

of her time doing fundraising and such. Much mixing with society folks in order to raise money." Mr. Beets paused. "She has agreed that

it would be to your benefit, as well as her own, to pass your guardianship over to Scott."

The room was still. Charlie sat for a long, long moment, feeling her heart leap. She looked to where Scott stood. His expression

was somewhat somber.

Charlie watched him with an intentness thru tears that threatened, and Scott gave just the very merest of nods at her. In confirmation.

"For truly?" Charlie said, in a near whisper.

"For truly," Scott said.

Charlie stood up, and then, in a flash, was standing beside Scott, leaning into his side. And then she was being hugged

by Murdoch. Johnny. Teresa. Maria. Even by Mr. Beets. Into the joyous chattering of the room, Charlie looked at Mr. Beets,

from where she stood, hanging onto Scott's hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Beets," she said. "Thank you so much!"

"I'm not the one to thank, sweetheart," the banker informed her. At Charlie's puzzled look, Mr. Beets nodded towards Scott.

"Scott's the one. He contacted Mrs. Frakes. He persuaded her to then contact Katherine, and arrange a meeting. Katherine

was convinced that she was to become an major contributing member of the 'Daughters of the Golden West'. After that, it was

only a matter of the guardianship papers to be signed. Scott was the catalyst behind all of it."

Charlie swept her look back up at Scott's face. He gave her a smile, and squeezed her hand.

After that, the cake was cut, and served. Charlie licked the frosting from her fork, and went to stand beside Scott's chair. The room

was abuzz with everyone else talking. And laughing. Even Jelly had joined the party, and was eating his second piece of cake.

Scott looked at Charlie, and, with the hand that wasn't holding his cup of coffee, he reached out to pat her back.

"How are you doing?" he asked her.

"My knees feel funny," Charlie told him. "Like they're jelly or something. I guess it's from being so excited."

"Maybe so," he agreed.

"Can we go outside and sit for a little while?" she asked him. "Just you and me?"

"We can do that," he said, and together they walked out, going to sit on a bench just outside the door.

"From here we can see the stars," Scott told her.

After a few moments of quiet, Charlie turned to look at his profile, in the light from the hanging lantern.

"You thought all of this up, didn't you?" she asked him. "Having that lady contact Katherine about helping with

the fundraising and all? You knew that she'd love the idea. Getting to be around wealthy people, and flattering them, so that

she can help raise money for that group. It's like Mr. Beets said. You were the one that did it."

"Katherine will probably raise a lot of money for the organization," Scott said, and Charlie saw that he was going to not say

anything unfavorable about Katherine.

"She probably will," Charlie agreed. Then, in curiousity, she asked, "How did you convince that lady to do it? That Mrs. Frakes? How

did you even know about her?"

"She was a friend of my grandfather's. They met years ago," Scott said.

"So, you asked her to contact Katherine? And invite her to be part of the group?"

"I told her that Katherine would no doubt become a pillar of the group, given half a chance."

Charlie smiled, almost to herself.

Scott wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "What's that little smile about?" he asked. "You look smug. Like the cat that swallowed

the canary."

Charlie pressed herself into his side, and smiled full-out now, her eyes full of adoration.

"You did that for me," she said, sounding satisfied. "I think that-" she paused, her voice trailing off.

"You think what?" Scott prompted.

"I think that you must love me a whole lot."

Scott leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "And you would be correct about that," he said.

And then, while the party continued on inside, Charlie and Scott sat there together, watching the California sky fill up

with stars.

L

 **This concludes the saga (too long in some opinions) of Charlotte (Charlie) Bays, and her ultimate fully-fledged**

 **place in the Lancer family. I loved writing this! As a kid, I was a 'Johnny' girl, and I still to this day think that**

 **James Stacy was one of the all time greats of Westerns. A talented, talented guy. As, I've grown older, I also look**

 **at Scott with new eyes, though. He was a compassionate man, and I hope that this story conveys that compassion, and**

 **what an extraordinary character he portrayed in the Lancer series. I have tossed the idea around of writing more**

 **'Charlie' adventures. Please let me know if that is something that would interest readers. And, I want to express my**

 **most fervent appreciation for my loyal reviewers. You are an amazing group, and keep me writing onward.**

 **Lancer Rocks!**


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